The Nearest Exit (Milo Weaver)
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Faced with the potential dissolution of his marriage and the end of his quiet, settled life, reluctant spy Milo Weaver has no choice but to return to his old job as a "tourist" for the CIA. But before he can get back to the dirty work of espionage, he has to prove his worth to his new bosses. Armed with a stack of false identities, Milo heads back to Europe, and for nearly three months every assignment is executed perfectly. Then he's instructed to kill the fifteen-year-old daughter of Moldovan immigrants, and make the body disappear. No questions. For Milo, it's an impossible task, but ignoring his handlers is equally untenable. Suddenly he's in a dangerous position, caught between right and wrong, between powerful self-interested foes, between patriots and traitors―especially now that he has nothing left to lose…
probably frowns on his aides dating.” Jones wasn’t convinced. “No, honey. He’s just not that into her.” It was peculiar, but in the end not peculiar enough to matter, nor to give Milo any insight. While the two women—Chan and Jackson—were their primary suspects, the truth was that it could be any of them. 7 Oskar had spent Monday morning filing background checks; it was the one dependably steady job since Erika had committed her transatlantic career suicide two years before. He sometimes
relatives, but as he watched his brother and sister-in-law walk away, he shrugged. “You can always take me down to the station if I refuse, yes?” “I’m not a cop.” “Then I don’t have to answer a thing.” “In which case, I’d be very curious why you wouldn’t.” Mihai blinked rapidly, perhaps a sign of an upcoming lie, perhaps not. “You know what I do for a living?” “You’re a baker, and you help people move here.” He smiled. “Yes, and no. It seems I spend most of my time answering police
was taken. You tell me what makes her special.” The second Feuergeist went down slower than the first as he considered his answer. He set down the half-empty shot glass. “I have my own demands.” “Of course you do.” “Silence. What I tell you—it’s not for the public. Can you promise me this? It’s only to help you do your job, nothing else. Because this is one case I’d like to see you solve.” If his information proved valuable, the truth was that its public dissemination wouldn’t be her choice.
out. Drummond had to admit to the mole investigation.” “I bet he didn’t take that well.” “You’d win that bet. He’s upset enough that the Chinese know about the Sudanese operation, but apparently that’s not the only pie Irwin had his finger in. So he’s taken over the department. Drummond’s now his errand boy. Irwin recalled everyone to New York to be debriefed and given new legends and go-codes.” “What about you?” “Drummond thought you might need someone to hold your hand.” They drank until
us to chat before your debriefing. Max, can you take care of it?” After months on the road, there was something freakishly civilized about what followed. Max took out a BlackBerry. “Four o’clock all right?” Milo shrugged. Max said to Irwin, “That way you can still make dinner at six with the Joshipuras. Stout—it’s a bar up on Thirty-third.” Dave Pearson finally ended his call. “Would you like me on hand?” Everyone looked at Irwin, who shook his head. “Let’s keep this off the record, shall