NEW YORK – APRIL 1965It was late at night when the telephone rang at the private residence. A flicking of the study room light, a tightening of the dressing gown belt, a rub of the eyes and the man picked up the handset. “Hello!”
“This is SENTINEL.”
The man paused to search his memory. A codename! Then he remembered. “Good to hear from you, it"s been a while.”
“Did I disturb you? What with it being the middle of the night?”
“Not at all, SENTINEL, I had to get up anyway, the phone was ringing.” It was an old and terrible joke that had passed between them for years. “To what do I owe the pleasure at this godforsaken time?”
“I"ve a little present for you. Some information, unofficial at the moment, just between you and me, and I wondered if you could shed some light on it.”
The man rubb
