Book 2, Birger Wallenberg
Chapter 2THUS, ON A DISMAL rainy Thursday morning in late June 1991, Dr Wallenberg passed through customs at Kennedy Airport. In the arrival hall, a card caught his attention. The Asgard Park Institute had rolled out the red carpet and sent a car to whisk its new Director upstate.
The driver deposited his luggage in the polished black boot of an armored limousine with easy efficiency. Impassive eyes noted everything but his passenger. Not a word was spoken. From a privileged life, Wallenberg knew the sort. The driver carried no insignia, and nor did the limo; most likely a hired car, driven by a professional bodyguard for the New York glitterati. Although relieved to escape the transport hassle, Wallenberg made a mental note of the unwarranted expense. With him
