"You look like a man who's had a hard day at the office and someone who could use a drink." Bumfelt looked her up and down. She looked good. Fuck. She...looked hot as fuck. Dressed in a black leather jacket, black pencil skirt, boots and in the weak light he caught a glimpse of pale cleavage. Cleavage is like the sun- you can't look straight at it- you have to glance and look away. He did. Too late-- she'd seen his eyes. She smiled. "I don't know about you," she said, a coy smile on her painted. He also began to give us the military secrets of the IRG. Ben and Frank both wanted a foreign military intelligence person from the Pentagon to help in the questioning.I was opposed and let it be known loudly. The more involved, the much greater the chance of leaks and fallout. After much discussion I finally relented with conditions.The limit would be two. I needed to be careful about how many knew about Camp Smith and the goings on here other than the training we did there. Agents Croft and. More

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