He blinked, and his expression changed. For an instant, I could have almost believed that there was disappointment in his eyes. It was gone in a microsecond, and his face became the cool mask of the seasoned negotiator. "As you wish, Mr. Montgomery." He paused, as if to order his thoughts. "As you might have guessed, there is a ... a matter, one might say ... on which you can help me. Do you have a passport? Not in your own name, of course"—he chuckled softly—"considering that Derek Montgomery officially died in twenty fifty-two. But one that will pass muster?"