“Ciao and Olá,” Danielle interrupted their intense debate about attack angles and flight endurance.
She’d nailed it when the women greeted her in Italian and Portuguese respectively; the Italian one continued over to the hangar confer with Lola Maloney.
“What?” Pete still didn’t get it.
“Listen,” she told Pete then turned back to the Brazilian woman who had remained behind with a soft smile on her full lips. “Please greet Major Napier, por favor.”
“Napier? Marvelous! I have heard so much of you. And now I have learned even more from how you fly,” she pronounced from with a lush, round frohm sound. Her Brazilian accent was softened by something…Los Angeles, maybe? Definitely Southern California. “You were better than I have even expected.” Her words were a mellifluous flow that cascaded
