The Los Alamos mission was over. I stood in the high-altitude sunshine, not enough oxygen in the air, and no protection from the high-altitude beating sun’s rays as I reflected. Somehow, I felt let down. Nothing had happened. It was almost like being a house painter...
I waited for some response from Herbert, the receiver glued to my ear. That Warner Erhard didn’t trust the Agency to keep its word was self-evident but the single word I’d used to indicate to Herbert that there was a whole lot more use Erhard could be than simply...
I ran through the open garage and on into the house through the kitchen door. The living room was to my right and Marcinko was sitting on the couch that faced me and the television set angled to his right. Mary stood talking to him but had not seated herself. “What...