3
Elizabeth hung up the phone and turned for the general’s office. From the threshold she watched the young woman inspecting the office, not that there was much to see. Other than a picture of his wife—now seven years gone—and a small diecast model of an AC-130H Spectre gunship he’d flown for twenty years, there was nothing personal. And being in attack aircraft development, everything else was classified and locked up.
Her heart ached for his pain that only she could see. General JJ Martinez kept it locked away deep. It was why she’d stayed twenty-four years in the Air Force instead of the four she’d planned—her husband hadn’t been pleased at first but at least he’d understood.
Which might be more than she did. The general had been as driven and taciturn the day before his wife was kil
