18
Henderson
I study the new set of photos on my screen as I rub the knotted muscles in my neck, trying to ignore my growing headache.
Reaching out to the FBI worked, and it didn’t take much prodding, either. Agent Ryson was only too glad to resume his investigation into Sokolov for me.
I’m not holding my breath that he’ll uncover anything, but that’s not the point of it, anyway. I just need an investigation to exist, even if it’s more of a personal vendetta by a disgruntled agent.
Opening the folder on my desk, I study the blueprints inside. The plan is beginning to take shape, slowly but surely. Now I just need to find the right people to execute it.
The sounds of automatic gunfire reach my ears, exacerbating the painful throbbing in my temples. Shoving the folder aside, I stand up
