I put the carriers on my desk and just watched them breathe and make facial expressions, the yawns and watched them flex their little fingers in their sleep. Occasionally I did do a few things on my computer.I looked over all the State Department daily alert reports. There was no mention of Haamid or any incidents in Morocco. Libya - on the other hand - had page after page. ISIS was wreaking havoc in Tripoli. There was no mention of Murzuq or the training camp.When I looked back at the boys, they were both wide awake but quiet. I guess they were studying me as I had been them; then they began to get fussy.They started tensing up and their little faces started turning red; I wondered what was going, on then it hit me. They were taking a poop - both of them at the same time."Oh my boys, you are still connected to the same clock," I thought. When the natural color returned to tell me they were done, I changed diapers. Then they wanted milk. The best I could do at the moment was a. You understand that they must be perfectly primed. I want Greg in my palm as much as I have Janet or he might blow the works." Oh, thank you, Darling," she cooed over the line. "You're so sweet to me. Sometimes I think you're a little too lenient." Well," he said, "Don't worry about that now. I'm leaving the office to see Janet. I want to impress upon her the importance of the weekend trip and then I'll see you about six thirty."Darleen hardly heard the click in her ear as Martin hung up. She was preoccupied with the new events at hand. Now she would be sure to get her revenge on Janet for attracting her husband, and at the same time, be able to take Greg for a ride. There was no thought of shopping in her mind as she left the house. She was going to see Peter Grant immediately and assure herself that everything would be arranged when they brought the Richards to meet Peter and his wife, Deborah.Grant's Tomb was almost obscured from any passers by. The single black door was decorated.
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