Untouched
"CARE FOR A SCOTCH?"
Daniel MacAlister stood by the window looking out at the rainy suburban landscape of Bethesda. While not as romantic as the spy rendezvous on foggy London bridges and deserted parks that happened in movies, Jack White's Maryland town house served its purpose, and more comfortably. CIA field operatives--especially deep-cover ones like Daniel--didn't have offices, but worked all over the globe on assignments that rarely made the papers. A coded phone call would summon him when he was needed.
Daniel couldn't count how many times he'd stood in this spot, awaiting his orders. Jack always asked him if he wanted a drink, and Daniel always answered the same way. Jack's offer was a gesture, a pro forma nicety that Daniel wasn't expected to accept.
"No, thanks."
"All right then, down to business." Jack took a folder from the black leather case on the desk and pushed it across the table, his voice matter-of-fact. "This is beyond top secret--destroy it when you're done."
The file, heavy in his hand, was as thick as a novel.
Daniel frowned. "Remington? I thought she was decommissioned after the accident last year."
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