“New trainee, sir?” the sergeant asked.

“New pilot trainee,” corrected the lieutenant, laughing a little. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

The sergeant could not help but smile a little. He had wanted to be a pilot himself, but his eyesight had not met the strict standards required. By the time Lasik had come around he already been too old for the training program anyway. In the past he had usually begrudged the new trainees their job, but this one was so openly happy that the sergeant was momentarily caught up in it.

“Yes, sir, beautiful indeed, but quite hard to handle, I hear.”

“Ah, we’ll see if I can’t make her sing for me.” said the lieutenant, laughing. The sergeant laughed as well, and began to walk away, continuing his patrol.

Nice human, thought Jean-Paul, his eyes following the chuckling soldier. It was a pity they were all going to die, he thought offhandedly. But the thought passed and his gaze returned to the lethal fighter. He smiled.

Chapter 29: Willing and Able

Every time the doorbell rang at Neal’s new house in Georgetown, his heart skipped a beat. He had been sitting in the plush living room, working on the finishing touches to his rushed dissertation so that he could hand it off to Barrett Milton to push through the approval process at Neal’s own university, a place where the colonel clearly had far more influence than he. He would return to defend it to the review panel, the final step in any dissertation, once it had been tacitly accepted by the dean.

Putting his laptop aside, he climbed from the easy chair and went to the door. As he did so, he heard the colonel coming down the stairs from the room he was temporarily using in the house. It had seemed easier for him to stay with Neal while in DC, and it had meant he could contribute to the extremely high cost of renting the house while he was here, too.

Neal opened the door and was greeted by a lady in an Electric Company uniform and cap, probably in her mid-fifties, introducing herself as Madge. Her dark, Persian looks made her seem more like an Isabella or Maria, but Neal nodded and waited for her to explain herself.

“I’m with the electric company, Mr. Danielson. Need to check the meter, may I come in?”

“Oh, right, of course,” said Neal, stepping aside to let her pass. He heard the colonel coming down the stairs behind him but kept his eyes on the electrician, who was looking up at the colonel and smiling.

“Well, Barrett, you are in more trouble than your message betrayed.” she said, taking off her hat, and shaking her long, black hair free. The action made her look younger and more virile than she had appeared to be. But Neal was too disturbed by her change of attitude to notice.