The Last Trade (2012)
“Two TSA agents. Low-level, from the looks of it. A man and a woman. The man directs her to sit on a plastic chair with aluminum legs. There are three chairs in the room and nothing else. “Not sure if they told you, but I’m a federal agent,” Sobieski says.
“We know,” replies the woman, a stout redhead even younger than Sobieski. Unspoken: Big friggin’ deal. Who isn’t? “Our job is to do what they say and—”
“It’s just that—”
The woman holds up her hand, interrupts right back. “Someone’...s getting in touch with someone about next steps. Overseas person, I think. So bear with us if it takes a bit.”
“Do you know why they’ve decided to . . . ?”
“No. Your name came up and, well . . . here we are.”
No one speaks for another fifteen minutes, until the man, a thin African-American who appears to be the redhead’s supervisor, checks his watch, pronounces “Oh, shoot,”MoreLess
“We know,” replies the woman, a stout redhead even younger than Sobieski. Unspoken: Big friggin’ deal. Who isn’t? “Our job is to do what they say and—”
“It’s just that—”
The woman holds up her hand, interrupts right back. “Someone’...s getting in touch with someone about next steps. Overseas person, I think. So bear with us if it takes a bit.”
“Do you know why they’ve decided to . . . ?”
“No. Your name came up and, well . . . here we are.”
No one speaks for another fifteen minutes, until the man, a thin African-American who appears to be the redhead’s supervisor, checks his watch, pronounces “Oh, shoot,”MoreLess
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