“Earlier in the week, you asked me about a Kuwaiti named Sabah Al Salim. I gave you an answer, but I was a bit vague when I answered. I would like to enlarge on what I’ve told you.”
It was a warm start to the day, with both of us, I thought, in good spirits. I had wondered what the day would bring forth, following on from the revelations of the day before about Vasilyev wanting to defect. That news had come with his request to have a native English speaker on his defection team. The thought of being first in line for this role had made Meadows begin the day with Sabah Al Salim, without any preamble from me.
We were outside once again, this time seated at one of the only two tables on the stone patio, in the process of taking a leisurely cup of coffee whilst smoking cigarettes. On the fac
