The cab drops both men off at the modern, twenty-story hotel situated in the busy city center. All around them, streets are crowded with people, vendors, cars, trucks, and tuck tucks. Channy grabs his luggage from the trunk and starts to make his way inside.
“See you later, Mr. Savage,” he says.
“Happy ending massages,” Sam barks. “Five PM sharp. See you in the lobby, Channy bro.”
“Sure you will,” Channy says, disappearing through the front revolving doors of the hotel.
Minutes later, Sam is standing in his fifth-floor hotel room, setting up his laptop and portable Wi-Fi router. His .45 is on the table beside the computer. As soon as he has tapped into the Wi-Fi signal, he links into the secure Washington D.C. communications platform and proceeds to send a video call request to his bos
