36
Miranda jolted awake. “Where am I?”
“Exactly where you requested, ma’am.”
She could only blink uncertainly. It was an inconspicuous house in the backwaters of Georgetown. It was familiar, even if how she came to be here wasn’t.
General Nason had finally called a car for her. For hours they’d puzzled over what little she knew of the crash.
It wouldn’t have taken nearly as long if he wasn’t constantly interrupted by a whole series of calls and people coming in to discuss some global crisis she wasn’t cleared for. Her legs ached from how often she’d had to rise and go to the outer office, only to be called back in minutes later.
She showed him the crash profile that she’d calculated and then, as he wasn’t a flier, had to explain why it was so anomalous. At her request, he’d showed he
