“You’re twenty-four, Chloe,” I said softly.
“I’m old enough to run six shipping lanes,” she snapped.
“You’re old enough to read an operational dossier,” I said, standing up from the metal chair.“But you’re still young enough to believe that the men who print the paper are the ones who hold the leverage.”
Julian chuckled, a low, condescending rumble from the back of his throat.“Samantha, please.
Don’t embarrass yourself with threats.
We are inside a restricted military medical facility.
Outside that door are four marshals with executive protection orders signed by the Deputy Attorney General.
If you take one hostile step toward me or your daughter, you will be neutralized before your heel hits the linoleum.”
“Julian,” I said, turning slowly to face him.“Do you know why Arthur gave you the green light to use this sub-basement?”
Julian’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second.“Arthur is a bureaucrat.
