Which categorically refused to come. Oh sure, I did drift off now and again—for five or ten minutes at a time, before the nightmare woke me up. The same nightmare, every fragging time, a replay of the ambush on Montlake Boulevard. The missile hitting the car, the FRT troopers on the roof and advancing across the street. Cat’s screams as she burns alive. Sometimes the car ruptures under the missile’s impact, throwing me free. Sometimes it doesn’t, trapping me inside while the flames rise up around me and Cat shrieks in my ears and I can see the satisfied grins of the troopers as they come forward to watch the fun ... .