He had fooled them by dropping the GPS tracking device on the unsuspecting train traveler. Good for him, Danko thought. Sounded like something he himself would have done. But his employer was not amused. And Milena could simply sit by in her hotel in DC and direct them with impunity. She was taking none of the risk, and none of the blame for failure, either. That Lobbyist had a long reach, and was more dangerous than he looked. Could have been the bastard child of that movie guy who played Opie. Danko’s man, Alex, drove the rental piece of shit Chevy down a quiet, snowy lane in Missoula’s southern hills area. Just as they pulled up to the curb on the quiet street, Danko’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the screen and saw that it said The Smithsonian, Milena’s fun moniker. “Yes,” Danko said. “I have you outside the house now,” Milena said with a knowing superiority. The woman liked being in charge, and Danko wondered if the same was true with her love-making.
