“YOU"RE TELLING ME the world is a dangerous place? Me?” The man"s patrician arrogance stormed the phone. “You"ve continued to do what you want because the world remains a dangerous place.” Standing at his window, the Washington Monument as a backdrop, he scoffed at the little people below, scurrying from place to place. As if they were important. “We need to proceed carefully,” he said in a calmer tone. “Not knowing what they know, we can"t allow what we know to make us careless.”
YOU"RE TELLING MEAs if they were important.The man sat down behind the mahogany desk in his elegantly decorated office. Photographs of himself with the power elite of a generation covered the walls. Gray-haired, immaculately attired in a Savile Row gray pinstripe, he kicked off his shoes. The calfskin loafers br
