The Blue Zone. Andrew Gross

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The Blue Zone - Andrew  Gross

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Chapter Fifty

       Chapter Fifty-One

       Chapter Fifty-Two

       Chapter Fifty-Three

       Chapter Fifty-Four

       Part Four

       Chapter Fifty-Five

       Chapter Fifty-Six

       Chapter Fifty-Seven

       Chapter Fifty-Eight

       Chapter Fifty-Nine

       Chapter Sixty

       Chapter Sixty-One

       Chapter Sixty-Two

       Chapter Sixty-Three

       Chapter Sixty-Four

       Chapter Sixty-Five

       Chapter Sixty-Six

       Chapter Sixty-Seven

       Chapter Sixty-Eight

       Chapter Sixty-Nine

       Chapter Seventy

       Chapter Seventy-One

       Chapter Seventy-Two

       Chapter Seventy-Three

       Chapter Seventy-Four

       Chapter Seventy-Five

       Part Five

       Chapter Seventy-Six

       Chapter Seventy-Seven

       Chapter Seventy-Eight

       Chapter Seventy-Nine

       Chapter Eighty

       Chapter Eighty-One

       Chapter Eighty-Two

       Chapter Eighty-Three

       Chapter Eighty-Four

       Chapter Eighty-Five

       Chapter Eighty-Six

       Chapter Eighty-Seven

       Epilogue

       Acknowledgments

       About the Author

       Also by the Author

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

      The manual of WITSEC, the U.S. Marshals agency that oversees the Witness Protection Program, describes three stages of agency involvement.

      The Red Zone—when a subject is held in protective custody, while in prison or on trial.

      The Green Zone—when that subject, along with his or her family, has been placed in a new identity and location and is living securely in that identity, known only to his WITSEC case agent.

      And the Blue Zone—the state most feared, when there is suspicion that a subject’s new identity has been penetrated or blown. When he or she is unaccounted for, is out of contact with the case agent, or has fled the safety of the program. When there is no official knowledge of whether that person is dead or alive.

       PROLOGUE

      It took just minutes for Dr. Emil Varga to reach the old man’s room. He had been in a deep sleep, dreaming of a woman from his days at the university a lifetime ago, but at the sound of the servant’s frantic knocking he quickly threw his wool jacket over his nightshirt and grabbed his bag.

      “Please, Doctor,” she said, running upstairs ahead of him, “come quick!”

      Varga knew the way. He had been staying in the hacienda for weeks. In fact, the stubborn, unyielding man who had held off death for so long was his only patient these days. Sometimes Varga mused over a brandy at night that his loyal service had hastened his departure from a lengthy and distinguished career.

      Was it finally over …?

      The doctor paused

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