AllFreeNovel
Share Us
12
“What’s she doing?”
Mike glanced over at Commander Susan Piazza, then followed her glance toward Miranda.
He, the commander, and her dog sat in three of the front-four passenger seats aboard the C-37B Gulfstream G550. VIP transport definitely worked for him—warm, luxurious, and a steward looking after their merest whims.
In the next seating section aft, Andi, Holly, and Miranda huddled together on a side-facing couch. They had their copy of the QAR data from the Alaska crash up on the big screen TV mounted on the wall. He was glad he’d given Holly and Andi the heads-up that they needed to help cover for Taz and especially Jeremy’s departure. They were definitely on it.
What he really wanted to do was stretch out on one of the beds in the aft cabin, but didn’t think that was about to happen.
The walnut paneling and the deep cushions of the black leather armchairs invited him to stop and relax to his heart’s content. Maybe to sleep. They’d been rousted to the Pegasus crash twelve hours ago. And he and Holly might have spent too much of last night taking advantage of having the team house to themselves with Taz and Jeremy gone East and Andi staying on Miranda’s island. Sleep had been their lowest priority last night, and after the Alaskan chill, it was catching up with him.
Once above the clouds, he checked his watch and saw that the sun was almost directly to starboard. They were headed southwest, and too far for Miranda’s jet, which had a range limit of fifteen hundred nautical miles. That meant Japan, South Korea, or somewhere past that. At least five hours of flight time, so no need to try rushing Miranda.
“She’s focusing on the KC-46 Pegasus crash.” He explained the obvious to Commander Piazza to see what she did with it.
“But she won’t even let me brief her on where we’re going.” Susan’s voice was frustrated enough to have Sadie popping her head up from her blanket.
“You’re spooking your dog.”
She leaned forward to pat it on the head. “Can’t the woman prioritize anything?”
“Nope,” Mike tipped the armchair seat back and rested his feet on the one opposite.
The steward came by with a coffee pot in one hand and actual porcelain wide-based mugs. Dangling from his elbow he offered a basket of snacks. Very sweet.
“Care to explain?” Susan took her coffee black and no snack. Mike opted for sugar and left it to the steward to discover that the others would prefer hot chocolate.
“Miranda can only focus on one thing at a time without being overwhelmed.”
By the slight tip of her head, Mike knew exactly what level he was going to have to start at—basics. Yet it wasn’t his place to announce Miranda disorder to the world. If it was a disorder. The more time he spent with her, the more time he wondered if it wasn’t the neurotypicals like the rest of them who were the screwed-up ones.
“Seriously, one thing at a time. She’s only really functional when she’s doing that, and then she’s an absolute genius about it. About anything. As long as it isn’t people—they’re a complete and utter mystery to her. Especially herself.”
“Okay. And the other part?”
“What’s your language, Susan? I know nothing about you.”
She smiled. “My language? I speak Italian, French, Spanish, and Hebrew.”
“Hebrew?”
“I wanted to read the Bible in the original, see what it really said without all of those translators getting in my way.”
Mike tried to laugh, but it didn’t come out very well. “Huh. Well, I guess I’m still bitter aboutthat.The way they taught it at my Catholic orphanage was certainly no treat. The Bible in one hand and the whipping stick in the other, which helps me understand the Koran in one hand and the sword in the other idea. Or rather, makes me additionally annoyed by that twisting of the philosophy.”
“But they are following the original.Peace on Earth to men of good willis the original, notgood will toward men.Of course that’s the Greek.”
“Which you also speak.”
Susan shrugged. “My education might have been from Catholic school as well. As to mylanguage.I’m part Italian—”
“The part that shows.” Out of her parka, Commander Susan Piazza was a lovely woman, perhaps a decade his senior based on her rank, but not looking a day of it. Five-six, nicely curved…
And what the hell was he thinking? He glanced at Holly, but she was thankfully too involved in the data analysis to notice him checking out their Navy liaison the night after they’d worn each other breathless. Though with Holly’s training in Australian Special Operations Forces, it was always hard to tell what Holly was and wasn’t noticing.
“The part that shows,” Susan agreed. “The other half is English, with a direct line back to the wrong side of Bunker Hill.”
