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“General Tomas Yazar, thank you for joining us.”
“My pleasure, General Sizemore, General Nason,” his salute was sharp. More correct than most two-stars bothered with anymore. “How may I be of service?”
Barry waved the man to a seat across his Pentagon desk, beside Drake.
He wasn’t sure if he’d met Yazar before, though he now knew a great deal about him from the file Barry had provided about his assistant.
Drake had never been in Barry’s office.
This end of it wasn’t all that different from his own: big desk, a few chairs, and little adornment other than the USAF and US flags behind him. Rather than a conference table and a lounge area, he had a vast, waist-high worksurface. It was divided into areas by branches of the military, and each of those were subdivided into sections regar
