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Harry groaned.
“Food. Must have food.”
“And distance,” Heidi agreed.
Time to clear their heads. Get out of the secure conference room in the goddamn CIA building’s basement for half an hour, stoke up and chill for a bit. They’d have to be sharp to take on Daemon.
“Rocco’s?”
Harry shook his head. It was the closest pizza place to the CIA’s Langley headquarters—making it like spook central even if the pizza was first rate.
“Amoo’s?”
He nodded. The kebabs were excellent and it was away from Langley’s main restaurant cluster without being too far away. They had some serious work to do, so he didn’t want to go far. To save time, Heidi called in their order to get it cooking. They always got the Combination III—Koobideh ground beef, Barg tenderloin beef, and saffron chicken with black
