Rush hour, Grand Central Station. Aaron Clifford stops dead in his tracks, commuters swirling around him - but he doesn't know he is Aaron Clifford. No matter how hard he tries, he has no memory of why he is there, where he came from, or where he's going. The clues came slowly - from his surroundings, from his wallet, from the taste of dry martini still on his lips. Soon Aaron Clifford will piece together the keys to his life. With that relief will come cold-blooded fear - as he learns more than he ever knew before. Things he shouldn't know. Things that could get him killed.