I watched the cafeteria monitor laugh as she tossed my son’s medical-grade lunch into the garbage because it “ruined the school’s vibe”—she didn’t know I was a CIA Ghost Operator, and I was about to unleash hell.
Part 1: The Protocol and The Red Line Chapter 1: The Protocol The morning sun in Northern Virginia was usually deceptive—bright and inviting, hiding the humidity that would choke you out by noon. I adjusted the collar of my “civilian” shirt, a light blue Oxford that felt like a costume every time I put it … Read more