Deep 6 was in a deep state of upheaval.
The entire operation was ordered to focus on one problem that threatened international security.
The problem was that no one in Deep 6 could determine what the problem was or where it originated, let alone who was responsible for it.
Thirty floors of stone, somewhere in the desert, contained one hundred and eighty people who were running around like chic
Yeo had been living as a homeless man for several months.He slept in shelters.He slept on sidewalks.He slept in parks.He ate at charity dining rooms.
Jason Yeo sat alone on the bench in the middle of the park with a cup of coffee. He had been sitting for an hour, dazed by the news. He didn’t shed a tear; he didn’t call anyone; he just sat, watching the frail human beings, who had no idea how frail they were, stroll- ing past him with their friends at their side, their kids at their side,their dogs at their side.It was just another day to them, wiping children, laughing inthe midst of conversation, cleaning up after their dogs.Two lovers were arguing on a b
Yeo spent several days thinking it through, making rudimentary sketches and simple outlines as a rough approach to his plan, something to get things started. He summoned the board to a meet- ing on Monday.The people at the conference table on the 105thfloor of the TransGlobal Building were not only trusted colleagues but friends he had known for decades.Yeo had a knack for surrounding himself with people who never disappointed him.“I&r
Sometimes known as a boil on the ass of an angel, Dinkleberry worked the night shift in the lowest personnel level of Deep 6. The levels beneath him were storage areas and finally the Underground out of the desert, back to civilization.Deep 6 was located in the bowels of a remote desert, its existence unknown to even the official powers of the government.It was unknown to the CIA. It was unknown to Mossad. It was the most important intelligence operative of the Shadow State, whose membership consisted of the people who actu
Yeo had to tell Ilina. He even looked forward to observing her response.Would she pity him enough to open her heart? Would that same violet shimmer play in her eyes once more?Or would she maintain the same cool demeanor that she always met him with?It was her eyes that struck him the first time he saw her in Tehran.
He found her in the garden, leaning over some plants.Her passion for gardening began after Roland’s death. She spent the entire afternoon in the sun. It kept her free from the shadows of her thoughts, at least for a time. She once had friends who came in the afternoon and sat on the veranda over lunch.The rest of her time had been spent painting in the studio on the third floor, looking out on the lake.
She brought the platter heaped with feta cheese, tomatoes, and red onions and set on the table on the veranda. She sat down beside Yeo and poured herself a glass of wine.They began to eat.“Do you like my tomatoes?” she asked after a while.“They are better than last summer,” he told her.
Yeo flew back to New York.He called a meeting of the board members and the full management team. Chuck Maitland had delegated authority to the people he knew he could rely on.Pulling a tight-knit organization together, sworn to silence, everyone acting like a CIA suddenly converted to gentleness and love for human kind, required a lot of discretion.And even more trust.