“Is my blue truck out back?” Richard asked.

“It’s parked in the rear bay,” Michael said.

“I had one of my agents carry your satellite phone case inside.

It’s on the counter in the staff office.”

“Good,” Richard said.

“I’ll take it along when we go.”

Michael held out his hand, and Richard shook it, their palms meeting in a short, firm grip that carried decades of history between them.

“Get some sleep, Colonel,” Michael said.