Twenty-TwoMoments later, T. J. rapped on the third-floor door of Cyrus Krieg-Zuber’s office, glancing at the posters of the Arc de Triomphe, Napoleon’s tomb, the pyramids and Westminster Abbey hanging in the interstices of the teak cabinets that lined his spacious office walls. This was the first time she’d actually seen him in the flesh. She’d read his personnel file with the others and knew that Rasmussen had originally recruited Krieg-Zuber about ten years ago from Advanced Cryotech, which had manufactured ASSET’s magnets, and where he’d received some highfalutin CIA security training. He’d spent time at various ITER sites but as deputy director at CFRC had become Rasmussen’s right-hand man and four years ago decided to tighten up security. That’s when things, as Mac told it, began to g
