Chapter 6
In his past visits, Washington D.C. always seemed cold to John. In part, that had to do with the bad weather that always seemed to plague him when he visited. It also had to do with the nature of most of his trips. D.C. was a place for debriefs, clandestine meetings, and generally grim news from some official or another. He was rarely in the city to celebrate, or even to rest.
It was too early in the morning for most Americans, but the persistent culture of jogging was not to be underestimated. Men and women, usually in pairs and always in tight, bright clothing, ran their routines, following trails and winding pavement through the pines that surrounded the lake.
His friend finally appeared through the mist and trudged slowly over to the bench where John was seated. Geese honk
