Airborne for 7…, 8…, 9…, the bike's wheels hit pavement and kept spinning. Pedals, gears, chains, I just became them. I pulled up to the rowhouse, locked up the bike and headed in. And there was Jack, lopping off the head of another fish. "Sushi again?" I asked, grabbing a Coke. The frothy, light liquid felt cool on my parched tongue. "Why not?" Jack answered. Jack was more or less obsessed with Japan, and had the unnerving habit of serving up kinds of fish, which could poison you thirty different ways. "M16's got something else for me" I said, taking another sip. This immediately sobered Jack. She had never wanted me to be a spy, only to lead a normal life. But it could surprise anybody , finding out your closest coworker was a secret agent. And that he wanted his nephew, the boy you've been looking after for nine years, to carry on the tradition. And that's me. "I just don't get it" said Jack, looking sideways. " I mean, what the hell do they want from you, really." "I don't know " I replied. "But I'll find out sometime." And I was on the bike again, pedaling deliberately toward the Royal and General, an ersatz bank that was home to M16.