Finally—and this is the big one, folks—my cover’s blown. I’m blown. Blake and the others have found out I’m a Lone Star plant, and they’ve decided to off me. A few weeks ago I’d have rated this one as unlikely. Now? After spotting and being spotted by the mysterious Mr. Neno, the odds are suddenly much higher. Yet it wasn’t much more than two hours ago that I was inside the Cutters safe house, catching zees outside Blake’s door. If he knew then, dealing with me should have been a matter of opening his door, leaning out with a pistol, and capping me while I slept. Or, if he wanted to make it slow and messy, using a cel phone to call down to Box and the rest of the Praetorians to come bag me. Taking me would have cost them, but they’d have been able to do it, no mistake about that.