Chapter 21965
February in Manhattan. It was colder than DC.
Stephen Hazelton, Director of—well, that really wasn’t important. Steve asked if I’d do him a favor. He needed an officer whose face was unknown in the field. Intelligence from a contact at the UN needed to be picked up and delivered to another officer.
Coming from him, the request was more like an order to volunteer. Not that I minded. As I’d told Hazelton, “Anything for our Country.”
The truth of the matter was that for the past month or so I’d been feeling restless and somewhat envious of my middle brother, who got to travel the world and do things.
So I flew into Kennedy, and my ride drove me into Manhattan. I checked into the Bonheur, a small hotel in the Murray Hill District, then caught a cab to the UN.
The retrieval
