I’ll call her Sonja. I met with her early one morning in a coffee shop or deli in New York — or was it Boston — five or six hears ago.
Sonja contacted me because she feared for her life. She worked for a U.S. intelligence agency, and stumbled upon a link between recent terrorist activiity and a supposed Mid-East ally of the United States. Since reporting her findings to her handler, Sonja sensed she was being followed.
Ignoring the risk of getting involved myself, I gave Sonja directions to my lake-side cabin where I told her she could stay while I sorted everything out.
I will report on the shocking conclusion to Sonja’s story when I return to my anchor job on the evening news.
I miss the crocs too. Next time I’ll aim better!