23
‘So I just drink it and…’
‘Wells will pick up your signal on this,’ Anna confirmed, handing the former British agent a small, black handheld locator with a GPS map on-screen.
Driver stared at the slim vial of clear liquid between her fingers.
‘What’s the problem?’ Anna asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Driver said. ‘It’s the thought of tiny robots floating around my system. Makes me feel wiggy.’
‘If it makes you feel better, they’re more like beacons, transmitting your location.’ Anna gave an encouraging nod.
‘Oh, beacons, why didn’t you just say?’ Driver snapped the top of the vial and necked the contents in one.
‘Here,’ Anna said, leaning into Wells. ‘You just pair the locator with the homing signal, and voila.’
The British operative ran the locator up and down Driver’s body. She tensed
