6
Charlie
Annabel’s burner phone rings on our way down the mountain. She looks at the screen, then meets my inquiring gaze. “Washington, D.C. It might be Senator Flack.”
“Answer it.”
Her hands tremble a bit as she slides the phone on. “Agent Gray speaking.”
“Annabel, hi. This is Senator Flack returning your call.” With my new and improved hearing, there’s no conversation I can’t eavesdrop on—including Annabel and her sister’s yesterday about me. The senator sounds warm and friendly, almost grandfatherly.
“Senator, thank you for calling me back. I know you were director of the CIA when my father died, and I remember you coming to the funeral.”
“Yes, that’s true. Your father was a friend of mine, Annabel. He was employed as a covert agent under me.”
“Can you tell me what his mission
