They'd been sitting there a while. The jeep was hot, but there was a cool breeze that smelled like it was coming from the ocean, and it was a dry heat that left even the surrounding wildlife suspended in a quiet siesta throughout this stakeout.
Sitwell had worked his feet up onto the dash some time ago, and this was the four hundred thousandth time he had peered through the binoculars, refocusing them slowly as though that would make movement happen on the horizon. He dropped them back against his chest, sighing, then turned to the Director.