CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
11:55 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Headquarters of the Special Response Team
McLean, Virginia
“Good morning, Luke,” the receptionist said as he entered the building through the glass doors of the main entrance.
Her name was Ginger. She was a friendly, talkative middle-aged lady with reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. She was also ruthlessly efficient in the way that anyone who worked for Don Morris was, or came to be.
“How was your trip?”
Luke smiled despite himself. He was exhausted, running on painkillers, two cups of coffee, and a Dexedrine pill. He rarely popped Dexies when he wasn’t on a mission, but today he made an exception. He couldn’t have gotten off the couch otherwise.
“It was a whirlwind tour, I’ll give it that much.”
She handed him
