When Lowbeer wished a conversation in public to be private, which she invariably did, London emptied itself… — William Gibson

Netherton said nothing, something he’d only recently been learning to deliberately do.

“Turkey and Syria weirding you out?…Folks in Frankfurt made me feel like the Cold War never really went away. Somebody shoots down a couple of Russian jets, wham, it’s Cold War Atlantis, risen from the depths.”

“What’s going on?” asked Manuela, eyeing the container’s door. “Is this a cult? Kidnapping people and telling them somebody’s after them?”

“Let me think about it,” Verity said.

“You’re kidnapped too? Let’s fucking escape!”