He has no past. And he may have no future. His memory is blank. He only knows that he was flushed out of the Mediterranean Sea, his body riddled with bullets.
There are a few clues. A frame of microfilm surgically implanted beneath the flesh of his hip. Evidence that plastic surgery has altered his face. Strange things that he says in his delirium—maybe code words. Initial: «J.B.» And a number on the film negative that leads to a Swiss bank account, a fortune of four million…
