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“What about us, sir?” Taz had remained at parade rest. Did he need the tough warrior? If he had the room aboard whatever Sarah was arranging, he might take her along. But his safety would be the least of their worries. If it came to that, there was probably only onenext step—war.
“Keep focused on what happened to Ms. Ramson’s husband.”
When Jeremy started to protest, Taz rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll have Miranda’s team with you, I assume, sir.” She offered it as close to an order as a colonel could make to a four-star general.
“Maybe not all five of them, but yes.” He should have thought of that sooner himself, but finding Clarissa had been his first priority when she didn’t answer her phone. Apparently she’d been busy speaking on it.
“Five?” She and Jeremy looked at each other in some distress.
He didn’t have time to explain Commander Piazza’s role with the four regular members of Miranda’s team. He’d sent her to grease the Navy wheels for whoever Miranda ran up against, which she’d done better at that most.
Thinking of buffers…he eyed Clarissa, then turned to Rose.
“Ms. Ramson, what is your security clearance?”
“The same as my husband’s was, General Nason. He confided in me…much of the time.” And that pause was the first flash of anger he’d ever seen on her face. Her glance at Clarissa said that the two women shared that anger at a dead man. Interesting…again for another time.
He would keep that in mind for any future meetings he was forced to have with Clarissa. He was half tempted to take Rose with him instead. Partly to spite Clarissa and partly because she would probably be a dynamo in smoothing out any diplomatic ruffled feathers. But there was only the one other seat and, whatever else Clarissa might be, she was damned effective.
“When and where is this meeting?” Clarissa asked as they headed for the door.
“In seven and a quarter hours, and—you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
