Knife-Edge touched his left side, where the sniper’s bullet had punched through his body. He smiled. "That might have made a difference to me," he admitted, "but not to you. Even with my spine shot in half, someone else would have eventually been having this discussion with you, you know." His cold smile faded. "Now, I think you should tell me where the data is. I know you don’t have it on you." He reached into his pocket, pulled out the passcard for the motel room.