London in the late winter was a city of charcoal skies and biting sleet. It was the perfect environment for a woman who no longer existed.
Ava stood on the deck of a cargo freighter as it navigated the murky waters of the Thames, her face hidden beneath the deep hood of a slate-grey parka. Beside her, the four children stood like statues, their eyes reflecting the city’s cold neon glow. They had spent the last week in the belly of ships and the back of transport trucks, shedding the grime of Madagascar for the anonymity of the urban sprawl.
"London is a grid, Mommy," Liam whispered, his eyes scanning the skyline. He was holding a new, low-frequency device Marcus had scavenged a 'Dark-Net' pager that bypassed cellular towers. "Everything here is watched. The CCTV, the transit cards... Sil
