The Distant Whispers
"The report is flagged, Elias." Major Vance did not look at me when he said it. He was busy cutting a piece of cold roast beef, the knife scraping against the porcelain with a sound like a bone being tested for marrow. The retirement banquet was in full swing, the hall crowded with agents and their families, the air thick with the scent of stale beer and roasting meat. I stood by the window, my...
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