"Why does that come as no surprise?" Deeks asked. "Go on – tell us the worst."

"San Diego is one of the leading centres for bio-technology research – there are dozens of companies researching and developing new ways to fight diseases. It's a major employment centre for geneticists. And there are equally as many groups determined to stop that work," Nell said. "People who object to animals being used in research. Animal activisists, in other words. Several of those groups are already involved in domestic terrorism activities and they seem to be using the same tactics as the Right to Life protestors. We traced the emails sent to Nico to a new group, who previously claimed responsibility for a car bomb that killed a leading researcher into stem cell therapies. Homeland Security are very interested in them."

"But why would they target me?" Nico asked. "I know nothing about genetic research or anything like that. I'm a pianist!"

"Well," Nell continued, checking her notes, "Tthat puzzled us too. Until we saw that benefit concert you did for the Children's Cancer Therapy Trust back in February."

"A fundraiser for a children's charity? Come on, isn't that stetching the long arm of co—incidence just a little bit too far?"

"No, not when one of the main aims is to fund research into gene therapy – in other words, altering the molecular structure of the human body, so that things like the breast cancer gene can't be passed down from parent to child. And that sort of research uses animals."

Nico was struggling to believe what she was hearing. "I played one concert and that makes me a target? But there were other people who took part – and hundreds of people in the audience. Whyon earth did they pick me?"

"Because you are young, and talented and beautiful? Because you are a bit of a local celebrity? They want to get as much publicity as possible, by whatever means they can. It's as simple as that. That's how these groups work – the more publicity they get, the more cranks they have flocking to their cause."

"And that is precisely why we are going to make sure that this stays strictly within these four walls," Hetty said. "I've cleared it with the Director of Homeland Security and we are not going to give in to these people. And, with your co-operation, Ms Sterling, we are going to flush them out and bring them right into the open."

"What do you want me to do?" Nico gave Hetty a steady gaze. "I'm not going to be intimidated by them. I'm not going to hide away and let them ruin my life."

Deeks felt like burying his head in his hands. Why did he always have to get involved with strong-willed woman who seemed drawn to danger? And why did he have a sneaking suspicion that he knew what was coming next? One glance at Hetty confirmed his worst fears.

"Let me guess – "Old friend Michael Brandel comforts grieving Nico Sterling?" A few well-publicised dinners, maybe some long-distant shots of us walking in a park deep in conversation? That about right, Hetty?"

"You're very perceptive, Mr Deeks."

"Not really. I guess I've just sort of tuned into the way your mind works."

"It is a great cover-story," Sam said. "Given that you actually are Michael Brandel."

"I was Brandel, Sam, past tense. There's a big difference."

Sam continued unabashed. "It's probably the best cover we've ever had. And you and Nico did get quite a bit of interest when you went to that club opening a while back. We'd be crazy not to make full use of it. You want me to be Curtis again?"

Deeks knew when he was beaten. Experience had taught him that there were some battles you were never going to win, so you might as well just sit back and go along for the journey. Even it was going to be a particularly bumpy ride.