Chapter 30
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One night over dinner in a D.C. restaurant, Vitalius and Herman sat eating lobster. It was a film noir scene - low lights in a back room and low-key bodyguards, two low-life men with a lot of power. Quiet voices, quiet menace. We watched everything and saw nothing, listened to everything and heard nothing. But not me of course. I wasn’t really a bodyguard, just a semi-fired FBI agent pretending to be a bodyguard. So I listened in.
“Do you know where she is?” asked Herman quietly.
“You gave up any right to ask that a long time ago,” said Vitalius. “But no, I don’t. She’s more than smart enough to stay hidden if she wants to, and you know that. More importantly, it isn’t what we’re here to talk about.”
“Do you really need all these... tough guys?”
“You have no idea
