Chapter 10BERTRAND SAT AT HIS desk, wondering why the world held little intrigue today—an anomaly, not a usual day. The only real issue on his desk was the vice president’s request for a status report about the daughter of his old Yale school friend, President Noboa.
He rehashed what they knew. From all reports he had received so far, the daughter and the father were not close. But the reports contained little real information about what might have caused her disappearance. This was the first instance, as far as he could remember, where the agency needed assets in the western sss.
A soft knock on the door broke through Bertrand’s thoughts. The door opened and Martin Pearson, his Deputy Director of Intelligence, walked in.
‘Good morning, Bertrand,’ Martin said, with what Bertrand could o
