Jack Grant had been taking it easy in his hotel suite when Trench burst in. Their rooms had almost become ad hoc offices for both of them over the past few months, and Grant was quickly tiring of being kept on the hook waiting for something to happen. At times, the paranoia of the undercover man would kick in and he would expect a bullet in the back of the head, or a knife between his ribs when he was asleep. So far, that hadn’t happened and assuming that no news was good news, he would settle back into a routine of constant boredom. His only contact was Trench and even he was only there sporadically, usually jetting off at a moment’s notice to deal with some unspecified piece of ‘business’ before returning unannounced. Just like now.
“Got a job for you,” Trench said. “A chance to lose yo
