CHAPTER ELEVENTHE PARIS-BERLIN EXPRESS thundered through the night, a gigantic ship that rode high above the Earth. Far below one could see the dim lights of eastern Europe.
Harry Wilson pressed his face against the window, staring down. There was nothing to see but the tiny lights. They were alone, he and the other occupants of the ship ... alone in the dark world that surrounded them.
But Wilson sensed some other presence in the ship, someone besides the pilot and his mechanics up ahead, the hostess and the three stodgy traveling men who were his fellow passengers.
Wilson’s hair ruffled at the base of his skull, tingling with an unknown fear that left him shaken.
A voice whispered in his ear: “Harry Wilson. So you are running away!”
Just a tiny voice that seemed hardly a voice at al
