Michael Strait is a photojournalist.
That is a reporter with a camera, letting his photographs say as much in an article as his words.
He is a very good one, working apparently on a freelance basis such that he goes where he wants, when he wants, and reports of what he wants. He does have one or more organizations which keep him solidly in work but the impression he gives is that the assignments he accepts are totally up to him.
One thing he would be adamant about is that he is not a spy. That is neither his purpose nor his desire. That does not mean, however, that this famous shutterbug does not do an occasional little something when the American Intelligence community asks nicely. Here again it is on him whether he accepts but considering his wide-range of interests and his penchant for globe-hopping at a moment's notice, he is likely to accept such requests.
Strait is a quite handsome single man in his early-to-mid 40s. His good looks and ever-so-smooth urbane style makes him a constant attraction to the fairer sex and he is quite happy to accept their invitations. So far none of those have involved any long term commitments.
Assisting Strait on many of his assignments is the beautiful and quite efficient Maggie Warren. What her exact title might be with regards her work for Strait is up in the air, though administrative assistant seems the most apt. She is certainly around enough to know the kind of dangerous situations that Strait routinely gets involved with.
If the airlines had been handing out frequent miles back when Strait was jetting to any and all places on the planet, he would have racked up an impressive total. Considering that one week he might be in Indochina and the next in a European capital and the next in a Central American banana republic, there is no doubt that Strait is accustomed to airline food. Certainly that would be while flying first-class.