Chapter 8: The Mission Begins
“You’re reconnaissance?” Vincent unrolled the blueprints and spread them over the table in the tiny kitchen. T.H.R.U.S.T. had arranged an apartment, but it was one bedroom with a tiny sitting room/kitchen combination, over a garage at the edge of a small town within an hour’s drive of their destination. Nikoloz had taken one look at the single bed and claimed the sofa for the duration.
“I believe it is my turn, yes.” Nikoloz glanced out the window, over the fields behind the garage. The farmer was out plowing, or perhaps harvesting. Nikoloz was uncertain about the workings of a farm. At any rate, the man was driving some sort of tractor around the field. His wife had finished her washing, and that now hung on the line, blowing in the late afternoon spring br
