On the drive from the airport to the hotel, he sat in the front passenger seat next to the driver, shoulders loose, eyes never still. Port Moresby slid past the window in flashes, bright market stalls, clusters of children barefoot on dusty verges, gleaming new glass buildings beside rusted corrugated iron. It was the kind of city that wore its contradictions openly.
Behind him, the Ambassador spoke with Miller about the schedule for the coming weeks, starting with a state dinner at Government House. Meetings with local officials. Visits to aid projects funded by the States. Nothing out of the ordinary. High-profile enough to make them a potential target, not high-profile enough to warrant a full Secret Service detail. That was where men like him came in.
His guys were all busy, Jakarta,
