The DIA is the militarys version of the CIA.
a young redheaded Air Force MP said when I flashed my shield.
He was carrying an M4.
One of the generals racked himself up a whole lot of parking tickets again?
Thats classified, I said, cracking a smile.
Ill bet, he said, letting us through.
Long time, no see, said the tall, balding, Nordic-looking Milne.
You remembered, Emily said, smiling.
Eleven going on twenty.
You know the drill.
You have four girls, right?
Actually, five now.
Id like you to meet Mike Bennett, the detective I was telling you about.
I have six girls, I said, as we shook hands.
Milne raised an eyebrow.
And four boys, too, Emily said.
You win, Detective, he said, smiling, as he finally put down his tea and sat.
So what can I do for you folks today?
It took me a few minutes to explain my crazy case to him.
So theres no way these prints are somebody elses?
he said after a beat.
I shook my head.
We had three people look at them, including the FBI.
Or his clone, Emily said.
Thats simply incredible, Milne said.
He dumps the plane on purpose and then just walks out of Iraq?
And nobody picks up on this?
What the hell went wrong?
Thats what were trying to find out, Chris, Emily said.
See, Eardleys mission was classified.
Even the FBI cant pull up the info.
Could you maybe inquire about it for us discreetly?
Something this cuckoo has Foggy Bottom written all over it.
I do mostly recruiting now, to be perfectly honest.
All this is definitely above my pay grade.
The State Department, the CIA, Emily said.
Ah, I said.
Ah is right, Milne said, lifting his mug again.
The CIA means politics.
