February 1979 (or 1399)
Another Joe. This Joe was probably once a soldier. Perhaps he became a spook. I’ve met a few active spooks over the years and they don’t advertise. Perhaps they join you for a fun run to places that are restricted for diplomats. Perhaps you accompany a friend in a city of refugees to meet a brother from ‘the’ agency. Perhaps a casual central Asian street acquaintance wasn’t so casual. Perhaps this colleague in a security arrangement really did formerly work where he said.
The spooks ask questions. They probe for information. This Joe asked such questions.
We met in an oilfield services club in Sharjah. We only ever met the once and spent no more than a few hours together over a few drinks and I’ve not forgotten him.
