He wondered if this was one of those times that he was supposed to just listen. Finally he decided and thought to himself, "Damn it to hell, I am a ma... so I might as well act like one and there is no sense in trying to second guess my judgment."Bill leaned back and raised Cherie's chin and looked at her tear stained face. "Cherie, I do need to go to a lookout point we made on those hills to the south of us. How about I take Mary along and talk to her. I was serious about showing her how to work. Nor sure where the State Department is. Nor what it looks like. And I wouldn’t find out this trip. We met Mr. Fleetwood in an undistinguished three-story office building in a mixed-use neighborhood in an area I later learned was called Adams Morgan. Northwest part of town.Morgan Fleetwood was as I’d remembered him in the Hotel Phillips in Kansas City. He’d blend in almost anywhere. My height, balding, horn-rimmed glasses.He smiled noncommittally and offered his hand to both of us.Mr. Fleetwood. More

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