Adrienne Perry, a supposedly dead woman. Hoegenakker was stunned because he was sure he confirmed her death himself. But she was staring right at him in the face, alive. She wasn’t a twin.
She caught up with Norman O’Connor and explained her situation to him. They were clearly old friends, knowing each other for years. There wasn’t much time, but with what little of it there was, they reminisced about the days in the =LSF= together, 8-10 years ago, during the Rheinland-Liberty War and when Gallia was just emerging as a major threat.
She pulled up a chair in front of Hoegenakker, who was slowly descending into traumatic physical shock over his wound. He needed medical attention soon. “Let’s book him into an Interspace transport out of here as soon as possible. The authorities can’t find out about this. He needs to be sent to Curacao, he'll be handled well at the black site there.”
The next thing he knew, he woke up at a small, sunny island with a few LSF and Interspace agents. His wounds were being treated at this beachfront house with medical staff on stand by.