introduction was for the benefit of their quasi-official entourage. They knew each other from a time Jason would rather forget. “To what do I owe this visit, Travers?”
The returning smile didn’t reach the man’s eyes. “Can’t I meet an old colleague?”
Jason grinned. “We haven’t exactly kept in touch. How did you know I was here?”
“When a man who once had your security clearance comes to this neck of the woods, it raises all sorts of alarm bells.”
Knowing they were being watched, Jason took Travers’ card and put it in his breast pocket. He didn’t hand over one of his own. His company, Safe Harbor, had been around long enough that any potential clients knew who they were. That included the U.S. government. “I didn’t know the American consulate stayed in such close communication with Pakistani authorities. But then again, we were the ones who trained the ISI back in seventy-six.”
Travers shook his balding head. “You’ve read too much into Ghost Wars . The author grossly exaggerates. The local government shares information when it suits them. Your visa would have been stuck in administrative processing for much longer if we didn’t confirm you weren’t employed by the State Department.”
Jason leaned back in his seat. “The U.S. Government isn’t known for doing private citizens favors.”
“For someone who once worked for us, you have a low opinion of bureaucrats.” Travers took a pack of cigarettes out of his breast pocket and tapped one out.
Jason shook his head when the man offered him a smoke. He didn’t need to compound a high-risk lifestyle with lung problems. “I’m just an old and jaded former government employee. Let’s skip the prologue and fast-forward to how you want my help.”
The cigarette lighter’s flame cast an orange glow on Travers’ face. He looked old, tired, and worried. “I heard Safe Harbor was hired to provide security for the Public Health Partnership.”
“We were offered the contract, but we’ve agreed to provide a security assessment and nothing more.” After being in this country for less than an hour, Jason was certain he made the right choice.
Travers’ low laugh followed a cloud of smoke. “You’re a smart man.”
“Perhaps.” Running security for fuzzy-headed health workers working in the slums of one of the world’s most dangerous cities was a recipe for failure. He knew how to pick his battles, and this wasn’t one he could win. It meant turning down a large chunk of change, but he didn’t think it was a decision he’d regret.
The bespectacled diplomat slid a thin brown file across the desk. Curious, Jason flipped it open and skimmed the warden message. The travel alert was dated for tomorrow. “An unspecified threat against American public health workers isn’t news.”
Travers pulled the ashtray closer and snuffed out the smoldering cigarette. “This warning is still going through the clearance process, but the threat is real. You need to get those kids out of here.”
Jason drummed his fingers on the armrest. The moment he read about the project, he knew the PHP’s decision to send its employees here was folly. This city was a ticking time bomb. Whatever good these bleeding hearts could do wasn’t worth their lives. Having six months pass without incident was a miracle in itself. “As far as I know, the government doesn’t take responsibility of the safety of private citizens overseas.”
“It doesn’t. If they are kidnapped, our marines won’t be coming to their rescue. The most we’ll do is expatriate the bodies back to the grieving families” To his credit, Travers didn’t sound like he approved.
“Then why are we having this conversation?” In Jason’s experience, bureaucrats didn’t go looking for trouble.
Travers adjusted his glasses. “The department would rather avoid a public relations nightmare. Candidates for sainthood from wholesome American families tend to make a splash on the
The returning smile didn’t reach the man’s eyes. “Can’t I meet an old colleague?”
Jason grinned. “We haven’t exactly kept in touch. How did you know I was here?”
“When a man who once had your security clearance comes to this neck of the woods, it raises all sorts of alarm bells.”
Knowing they were being watched, Jason took Travers’ card and put it in his breast pocket. He didn’t hand over one of his own. His company, Safe Harbor, had been around long enough that any potential clients knew who they were. That included the U.S. government. “I didn’t know the American consulate stayed in such close communication with Pakistani authorities. But then again, we were the ones who trained the ISI back in seventy-six.”
Travers shook his balding head. “You’ve read too much into Ghost Wars . The author grossly exaggerates. The local government shares information when it suits them. Your visa would have been stuck in administrative processing for much longer if we didn’t confirm you weren’t employed by the State Department.”
Jason leaned back in his seat. “The U.S. Government isn’t known for doing private citizens favors.”
“For someone who once worked for us, you have a low opinion of bureaucrats.” Travers took a pack of cigarettes out of his breast pocket and tapped one out.
Jason shook his head when the man offered him a smoke. He didn’t need to compound a high-risk lifestyle with lung problems. “I’m just an old and jaded former government employee. Let’s skip the prologue and fast-forward to how you want my help.”
The cigarette lighter’s flame cast an orange glow on Travers’ face. He looked old, tired, and worried. “I heard Safe Harbor was hired to provide security for the Public Health Partnership.”
“We were offered the contract, but we’ve agreed to provide a security assessment and nothing more.” After being in this country for less than an hour, Jason was certain he made the right choice.
Travers’ low laugh followed a cloud of smoke. “You’re a smart man.”
“Perhaps.” Running security for fuzzy-headed health workers working in the slums of one of the world’s most dangerous cities was a recipe for failure. He knew how to pick his battles, and this wasn’t one he could win. It meant turning down a large chunk of change, but he didn’t think it was a decision he’d regret.
The bespectacled diplomat slid a thin brown file across the desk. Curious, Jason flipped it open and skimmed the warden message. The travel alert was dated for tomorrow. “An unspecified threat against American public health workers isn’t news.”
Travers pulled the ashtray closer and snuffed out the smoldering cigarette. “This warning is still going through the clearance process, but the threat is real. You need to get those kids out of here.”
Jason drummed his fingers on the armrest. The moment he read about the project, he knew the PHP’s decision to send its employees here was folly. This city was a ticking time bomb. Whatever good these bleeding hearts could do wasn’t worth their lives. Having six months pass without incident was a miracle in itself. “As far as I know, the government doesn’t take responsibility of the safety of private citizens overseas.”
“It doesn’t. If they are kidnapped, our marines won’t be coming to their rescue. The most we’ll do is expatriate the bodies back to the grieving families” To his credit, Travers didn’t sound like he approved.
“Then why are we having this conversation?” In Jason’s experience, bureaucrats didn’t go looking for trouble.
Travers adjusted his glasses. “The department would rather avoid a public relations nightmare. Candidates for sainthood from wholesome American families tend to make a splash on the
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