Chapter Seven
We’re Off to See the Pasha
Later that morning after my non-interrogation by Arlen at the embassy, I found myself once again on the TGV, this time to Geneva, where I would board a Turkish Airlines flight to Istanbul. Officially, I wasn’t exactly a secret operative, but he gave me to understand that in all other ways I was acting for my government. He’d made me sign a paper that basically said if I told anyone about my mission—or my eventual discoveries—I could figure on a very long jail sentence or a short trip off the side of the Pont Neuf.
Why I couldn’t embark from Charles De Gaulle I wasn’t told, although it probably had something to do with my new fake British passport, issued to one Evan J. Evans, a nondescript commercial traveler residing in Mousehole, Cornwall. Neve
