Exposure (Jackson Chase Novella Book 1) by Black Connor

Author:Black, Connor [Black, Connor]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Published: 2013-04-21T04:00:00+00:00

Part III

Bangkok

22

The long halls of the US Embassy in Bangkok were busy, with clusters of State Department workers moving from, room to room, meeting to meeting. The black and white marble floor magnified the din of conversations being held in English, with a smattering of Thai.

“Here you are, gentlemen,” said our escort from the Military Attaché’s office as she opened the tall door to a conference room.

Sterba and I nodded our thanks and entered.

Seated at the table were Lt. Commander Haley Chen and a man I assumed to be our CIA contact in the hunt for Slater. They rose and came around the table to greet us.

“Commander Chen,” I said, shaking her hand. While she was one step senior in rank, we did not salute, as we were both in civilian clothes.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” she said, and then turned to Sterba. “Chief.”

She wore slacks with a blouse and jacket. And while the jacket was loose, I could see why Joe mentioned that Naval uniforms had been hiding something there.

The CIA man extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant. My name is Landon Clark. Station Chief.”

As Station Chief, Clark would be the head spook here. Both Sterba and I regarded him carefully. I put him near sixty, with thinning hair more gray than brown. His suit was well cut, but also well worn. He exuded a level of comfort, or, more accurately, confidence without arrogance.

“Nice to meet you as well. Expected your title to be Agricultural Attaché or something silly like that,” I said with a smile.

He chuckled. “Only on occasion. I’m too old for those games any longer.”

I gestured to Sterba, “Chief Joe Sterba.”

He reached to shake Sterba’s hand, his face turning from a amused to serious instantly. “Chief, please know that I am very sorry to hear about the men you lost on the mission in Afghanistan.”

His sincerity was genuine. You could tell he had lost men in the field before, and understood the burden Sterba carried.

“Thank you, sir. They were good men,” Sterba replied.

“So let’s talk about getting the asshole that killed them,” said Clark.

And with that, the concerns Sterba and I had that we’d get the bureaucratic runaround washed away.

“Let’s do that,” I said, and we all took a seat.

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