30Harry waved a hand toward the wall of windows. Beyond them, a US Air Force jet sat on the tarmac. “I did my part.” He shook his head, gestured toward the dog beside me. “But you, Casey. She’s what you meant by a high-ranking official from the former East Bloc?”
Blondie pressed tighter against my leg and moaned to signal how distressed she was by Harry’s tone of voice.
“She can’t fly commercial,” I said. “Not caged up in a cargo bay all the way across the Atlantic. On a military flight, she can have her own seat up front.”
“At least she’s a German shepherd.” Harry stretched a hand toward Blondie’s hindquarters and began rubbing her haunch. She twitched, but stood still for it. He added, “You’ll have to teach her English if you’re going to keep her.”
“I’m keeping her,” I said. “We’ve b
