When Miranda waved her over, Susan didn’t want to move. With General Zhang Ru gone, the conversation had improved—marginally, but better. She’d been working all morning to find a way to bridge the gap between the two men, to nurse along the flickers of hope.
Director Reese was doing a fine job of offering information and insights, some uncomfortable to China but others uncomfortable to the US. But she was helping the situation less than she thought. Calling Liú Zuocheng an i***t one more time, no matter how creatively, wasn’t helping in the slightest. Yet she seemed unable to stop herself.
In some curious ways, Clarissa Reese shared attributes with Miranda Chase. Her focus to task and dismissal of everything else as irrelevant. And her severe lack of tact. With Miranda, it was a part of
