The next morning, at a room in the tower of the Llandinam building of the University, traitors met together. The mood was grim, as the man in the chair glared at the men sat before her. The pallor in his face indicated that he was a man who had felt a great blow."What did you say?" he demanded of the two battered men who had brought the news of the night before.
"We were guarding the room," one spoke softly. "This girl in brown and black leather attacked us."
"She was fast," the other man added. "And someone was with her. "He knocked me out."
"What did she look like?" the leader spoke in a whisper.
"Blonde," came the reply. "Pretty, too. The suit had a sort of bird thing going on."
"No..." the leader breathed, trembling. "It's impossible..."
"What is?" one of the men asked.
"The woman you described," came the terrified answer, "is Sparrowhawk. Just under ten years ago, she broke this organisation wide open. She discovered every secret. Before she could do anything, however, we tracked her down. Here, in Aberystwyth. I was told she was dead."
"And if she's not?" the question was laden with dread.
"Then all of us are."
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