Langley, Virginia
Special Agent Fulton fumed with tension, though it was barely ten a.m. He had already removed his jacket and loosened his tie. He had no time for formalities. These days he arrived anywhere from six to six thirty in the morning and worked until seven or eight at night. Fulton didn"t fear hard work. He had just one fear – failure. A successful execution of Project Crossfire would be a career milestone for him. And time worked against him constantly. He had much to do. His secretary buzzed in, “Sir, Mr. Carlton is here.”
“Thanks, Joyce. Please send him in.”
Carlton entered the room with obvious trepidation. As he approached Fulton"s desk, he removed a handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped sweat from his shining pate. He wore his typical work clothes – a starched,
