Wednesday. Nasar's Home. New York City, New York.
NASAR SAT ON THE coffee table and stared at the years' worth of bread crumbs spread out on his floor. He'd arranged the pages documenting what he knew in chronological order, starting with everything he knew about the explosion that had killed his family.
It had taken him a year, almost two, to uncover the tiniest bits of intel, and then it just kept coming.
The men he'd met who shared his frustrations.
The leak about accidental drone attacks.
Cover-up rumors.
Zak had told him they'd find the answers in America. That with the shift of the US military, the only way to discover more was to follow them. And Nasar had. Along the way, he did whatever job Zak asked him to do because it ultimately led to more information or a contact who could tell him more.
It was Zak who'd arranged for Nasar to meet with the young man who'd told him about Daniel Smith.
Everything came through Zak.