61
“Lieutenant,” Taz greeted the man she’d pointed out.
Jeremy wasn’t sure why he himself was a problem.
The officer reminded Jeremy of his seventh-grade math teacher. Mr. Bantam had controlled twenty-seven unruly thirteen-year-olds with all of the military precision and perfect posture of a Marine sergeant.
“Major,” the man snarled out and tapped the gold five-petal plum flower on his collar point.
“Sorry…Major.”
But Taz would know that. Colonel Zhao Tung-Mei had explained the triple plum flower of her own insignia. Why would she intentionally antagonize the man?
Then Jeremy saw, behind the man, Miranda and Mike taking off aboard the Black Hawk. Moments later, they’d taken up the slack and lifted the cockpit away.
The Taiwanese major spun to stare aghast at the departing helicopte
