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Sebastian performed a quick shave and showered this morning, walked down to drive the Alfa and for a tiny-second a flashing light caught his left eye, disturbing enough to make him aware of a perhaps an observing camera, not unexpected especially after the warning from the agency on the previous night at the local coffee shop. It was unprecedented to see a real person across from you talking about a case that is destroying the organization, something is rotten and we may have a shadow.

Yes, an early drive to the country is what is needed, the growing purr from the engine invades his senses as the car beckons to be driven hard, the somewhat synchronized gears grind as shifting occurs and faster speeds are achieved -- As the morning dew disappears the need to submerge with early nature is longed-for, the green almost blue grass shines under his eyes, that are now closed with his whole being enjoying the sweet smells in the air.

The distance covered is great but the black spider beckons for more, the speedometer is not accurate, dust and time are doing their part, within the spider’s windshield there is an emblem showing a set of airplane wings.

Having arrived, a visit to the widow is required, the local police had been in already and accurate information can’t be obtained from a woman bent on revenge, she talks as if she wanted to get rid of many things for other important things as getting her hair done. "They come abruptly and attempted to I supposed kidnap me, I stopped and saw their faces and promised to remember how other defenseless person will feel when two beasts will come towards you and grab you, slowly but surely I shot them in the knees, excruciated pain in their faces was seen." “As for my missing husband he is dead.”

Earl is her husband name and yes he is very much dead. You see Earl’s early innocence was destroyed when he witnesses the agency’s brutal assassination of a priest (falsely suspected of running guns) in Iraq, and in D.C. quickly becomes lost in the wilderness of mirrors created by his fellow intelligence officers. He is drawn willy-nilly into a complicated plot involving a double agent — an Iranian sympathizer, who apparently agrees to carry out a mission for the Americans — and finds himself increasingly unable to distinguish between the good guys and the bad guys, the earnest and the duplicitous, the idealistic and the mercenary.

At the coffee shop, Earl loses his way or, rather, comes to believe that his superiors have lost their way. In a secret memo he suggests that the intelligence functions of the agency are being perverted, that they are being used to “provide rationalizations for policy,” much the way flawed intelligence was used, in the walk-up to the Iraq war, to provide a rationale for invasion.

Someone read the memo.
 
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