You were chosen, because you were safe, disposable.
You were kidnapped, framed, brainwashed to a catatonic state and given a fifteen minute start.
And if they catch you before the police do, they will kill you.
John Grueby, a mild-mannered, compulsively conforming librarian is picked up by a gang of powerful perverts for a game that is anything but fair.
Without warning, the anonymous and sinister faction plunge him into a universe of horror and deceit, where no word is true and no act is kindly meant.
Tortured and relentlessly tormented by the deviant gang, the now damaged and broken Grueby must then allow them to remorselessly hunt him from New York to Zurich, from Iowa to a reeking motel in central Florida.
He is one man pitted against a sophisticated complex of computers, a malevolent blend of blackmail and political intrigue.
It had occurred to him to look for a policeman and demand sanctuary, but even if the police did not think him a savage killer; even if the murder of his wife had been contrived; even if the police were not looking for him, could he trust any one of them who might happen to be near him?
How could he know that this window was a window, that the reflection was his own, that this street that seemed to be Fifty-ninth Street was, in fact, that street?
How could he know that any man was what he seemed…?