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Harm Mac Bud Clay AJ Tiner
Special Assistant to the Undersecretary of State Clayton Webb
By Jo (email@example.com)
I knew it was a mistake to try to work jointly with the military. Now they're going to want me to get all the 'classified' information they can't. I don't know what I was thinking when I gave Rabb my cell number last week.
Yes, he called me, in the middle of Mother's dance lessons, no less. I had to walk out in the middle of the tango and completely miss the waltz. Mother will never forgive me. Maybe I'll get her those opal earrings she was admiring. She says she's used to it, but I'm sure she wishes I wasn't quite so much my father's son sometimes.
You could say it was for a good cause, I'm sure Rabb would. Okay, I also liked the opportunity to mess with Osborne. The man gives the company a bad name and leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. He didn't get any more notches in his belt tonight, though, and I know he's ticked off. Too bad.
I know Rabb and the rest think I'm heartless, I have to cultivate that image for my line of work, but I don't like being a party to unnecessary killing. That corporal didn't deserve to die, especially since he wasn't the one who'd done anything wrong in the first place. I'm satisfied I had a hand in keeping him out of a body bag.