CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
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THE PHONE RANG, AND McNamara woke up groggily and looked around. He ran his fingers through his hair and over his face and rubbed his eyes. Then, he answered the phone he’d left on the night table next to the bed.
“McNamara,” he said in a voice heavy with sleep.
“Sir, it’s me, Jo,” his subordinate voice came from the other end of the line. “Did I wake you up, by any chance?” she inquired, not a little surprised to find him sleeping.
“No, problem, Jo. I should have woken up, anyway. Tell me if there’s anything new. What time is it?”
“Sir, it’s ten, didn’t you know?” Jo replied, and bewilderment rang in her voice.
McNamara grimaced. He had slept only a few hours — three, more precisely. He had tried to stay awake and the last time he had looked at t
