Manhattan

At an apartment formerly used as a safe house where Kurtz had arranged for him to stay, Brian checked his watch. Seven thirty p.m. At nine thirty a.m. Tokyo time, Alex should be at his desk.

Brian dialed but, after five rings, all he got was Alex's voice mail. He sighed and hung up without leaving a message.

Brian Boyle was from Milwaukee, the youngest child of a worker at one of the big breweries. His mother tended to baby him and, when his father suddenly dropped dead from a heart attack his junior year in high school, insisted that her son continue to pursue his dream of attending college. While she worked as a check-out clerk in a nearby supermarket, Brian devoted himself to his studies. When he was accepted at the University of Wisconsin on a full scholarship, it seemed the struggle had been worth it.