“My field duffel meets every military transport standard,” I said.

“Nonsense,” Daniel said, helping himself to a warm roll from the basket.

“Appearance is half the battle when you’re dealing with regional staff.”

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, took out a folded document on cream bond paper, and laid it flat on the tablecloth between the gravy boat and the salt cellar.

“Since we’re all sitting here together enjoying a nice meal,” Daniel said, “we might as well handle one small administrative detail.”

Margaret picked up her napkin and pressed it to her lips.