Archie and I walked to the pub where we’d spent a rowdy evening in order to pick up his car, and he drove us to Victoria Street.
And they said I was a reckless driver.
Once at NS3, we stopped at the canteen for a cuppa.
“Care to go out for a bite after work?” he asked as he stirred milk and sugar into his tea.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
We parted ways, and I sauntered to my office. I raised my cup to my lips and glanced at the calendar on my desk. It was coming toward the end of February, and James should be back soon. I’d still heard nothing from him. Should I start making plans for a new job?
I set my cup down, only then noticing the typewritten note on the blotter.
Tanner—I need you to fly to Berlin immediately. Once there, you’ll contact Vasili Sidorov. He’ll be waiting f
