Inspector Marchand and Captain Dupont hurried down the stone corridor toward the Interrogation Block, their boots echoing like hammer blows against the damp walls. As they walked, Dupont’s voice was a low, jagged hiss of resentment.
"Damn it, Marchand, this is an insult! That woman—Adelaide de Molay—she wouldn't know a field command if it bit her on the nose! She lets a 'Sparrow' slip through the net tonight, and last time she let 'The Nightingale' vanish right under her eyes!"
Dupont stopped at the heavy steel door, turning to his superior. "You have to speak to the Director. We cannot have the Cryptography Section play-acting as soldiers. She’s a liability, Marchand. She’s going to get us all killed."
Marchand reached out, his hand clamping firmly over Dupont’s mouth. "Enough. Section
