Castro's Daughter
“It was nearly two in the morning, and he’d been smoking heavily and drinking black coffee since he’d come in around ten and he felt like hell. Especially now, this late with no news, good or bad.
Tony Battaglia, the Watch officer, walked back to where Bambridge was sitting at a small desk just within the open door from the corridor. He was a slightly built man with a white shirt, tie loose, jacket off. The heels of his loafers were worn down, and like the other five specialists who worked twelv...e-on, twelve-off—usually for five or six days in a row—he looked like he was sick or used up, not enough sleep, not enough mental rest, but like he was fond of saying, “This is the greatest job in the world because we get to know everything.”
The Watch was connected by satellite feeds and highly encrypted computer links to every CIA asset around the world, plus information from the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency over at Reston, in addition to most of the U.S. intelligence agencies, including the FBI.MoreLess
Tony Battaglia, the Watch officer, walked back to where Bambridge was sitting at a small desk just within the open door from the corridor. He was a slightly built man with a white shirt, tie loose, jacket off. The heels of his loafers were worn down, and like the other five specialists who worked twelv...e-on, twelve-off—usually for five or six days in a row—he looked like he was sick or used up, not enough sleep, not enough mental rest, but like he was fond of saying, “This is the greatest job in the world because we get to know everything.”
The Watch was connected by satellite feeds and highly encrypted computer links to every CIA asset around the world, plus information from the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency over at Reston, in addition to most of the U.S. intelligence agencies, including the FBI.MoreLess
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