‘So, do we call you Major John Steel or agent Steel of MI8, or as we know it IMIA?’ Sloan asked.
‘Glad you did your homework. Makes things easier,’ Steel said.
‘Well, you’ve done enough work with all of our agencies to be known to us. Glad you were here on this one.’
Steel just nodded. ‘Any news on Foster, sir?’
‘He’s in the hospital. It could have been worse. Doctors are working on him now. They’ll let us know,’ Sloan said. ‘He’s a tough old bastard. He’s gonna make it.’
Steel smiled and shook his head. ‘Na, he's just too stubborn to die.’
‘Let’s hope we are both right,’ Sloan said.
‘Do you know what happened?’ Steel said, looking about, noticing the crime scene techs doing their thing.
‘Car bomb,’ Sloan said. ‘Must have been the same sorry sons-of-bitches who attacked your friend
