“If you think it would help,” Chap said, with mild sarcasm. At this point, anything would help. He looked around the room. Everyone was now seated with the exception of himself and the young CIA agent. There was another empty chair in the room, a few paces from where he stood.
“Would you like to sit, Sergeant?” Commissioner Bartholomew asked.
“Thank you, sir. I would prefer to stand,” Chap answered, looking across at the chair. It was a little too close to where Schaefer sat for his liking. He had only known the ‘diplomat’ a few minutes, but that was long enough for Chap to decide there was something about the man he didn’t like.
“The group was born in the ranks of the Central Intelligence Agency about forty years ago, give or take.” Rodrigues said. “A small, select band of operatives w
