Sitting in the dark of the booth the depth of my betrayal started to sink in. Everything that I had experienced, from the moment I picked up the rose from the hand of the statue had been staged. They knew my patterns, my signals, and my habits! They knew that planting a message from a trusted informant would lead me to this point. But who were they? James Walker I knew, but who was the mysterious Frenchman in the goggles?