Just My Personal Opinion, Of Course...

8:10 p.m., the Sydarian Embassy, Washington, DC:  “Did you get the package?” The words, calm and quiet, displayed none of the seething tension Ambassador Jamar Farahani held inside. He hated working with scum like this--dirty, violent. Uneducated. But that was the only kind of man who would undertake this type of job. “Yeah, we got her,” replied the rough voice on the other end of the line.  “When are you coming to pick her up?” “Tomorrow. Maybe. It depends on the weather. Right now, they will not let any planes take off from the airport. Not even private jets.” Jamar’s hand tightened on the phone as he watched the snowstorm outside his windows. “There is supposed to be a break in the morning. So hopefully, I can get out then.” “If that’s the best you can do, I’ll just have to sit on her for a while. But get here as soon as you can. My guys are getting restless.”  “Just make sure nothing happens to her, Johnson.” Jamar’s voice turned cold and hard. “If she is rap...