The mansion of Nanetos stands in beautiful grounds, a little way outside Aberystwyth. For generations it was home to the Powell family, who supplied MPs and High Sheriffs of the County. But their hopes died with the heir to the estate in the mud of the Western Front. Today, the house is a luxury hotel, much used for weddings and the like, as incontestably the most magnificent building in the Aberystwyth region. It was also the place designated as the rendezvous for the spies and their masters.
And that explains why Sparrowhawk was standing in the woods across from the lawns, leaning on the railings as she watched the elegant mansion. Across from her, looking the other way, was the impassive figure of the Green Man. He checked his gun, keeping a watch on the road as he did so.
"You're sure they won't change the drop point?" Sparrowhawk sounded nervous, blue eyes wide.
"They can't." The Green Man laughed grimly. "The sub has been maintaining radio silence since long before we came on the scene. And they won't risk their airwaves trying to get in contact today. And if they do, my people 'll pick it up."
"You mean..." Sparrowhawk began.
"There are pothers," the Green Man nodded. "But not others who frighten the wicked. And no-one could frighten these people more than someone they thought was dead."
"And what do we do now?" Sparrowhawk asked innocently.
"Now?" the Green Man looked towards the mansion. "Now, we wait."
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