“Tomorrow,” he said, and Jonathan agreed, clearly as beat as Simon himself. His old friend had backed the car down the driveway and off into the night before Simon had made it to the entrance. He took a moment to breathe in the clean, cool pre-dawn air. The rain had passed, at least for the moment, and though he was weary beyond belief, he felt strangely calm. It had been a good meeting. Now he had a plan, crazy as it was. And a team of people he could trust. And… And there was something wrong here. The first hint came as he entered the lobby of his apartment. The regular greeting at the door was silent, which was highly unusual. The attendant was not there. He looked around as he started to walk upstairs, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary until he reached his own front door. There was light shining around its edges—far too much light. His front door was ajar by half an inch.
