The woman who came into my office that night had a coat that cost more than my car and eyes that had seen things that would make a marine's teeth chatter.
She sat down without being invited, which in my experience meant she was either very brave or very desperate. Usually both. "I need you to find a man," she said. Her voice was the kind of voice you'd expect from someone who spent her life reading poetry to rooms full of people who weren't listening. "A tall man. Goes by the Ambassador. He has an embassy—doesn't exist on any map." I studied her....
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