61 Rosa stood behind Pierre’s seat. For the last two hours in transit she’d drilled him in every advanced technique she knew. Every challenge, every scenario, even ones that she’d barely survived, he found a way through. It wasn’t always pretty, but his solutions worked and his accuracy was exceptional. Speed was the only place she could still outperform him. They were discussing implications of the far corners of temperature-humidity-air density diagrams—high altitude arctic-cold achingly dry, and low-jungle monsoon—when General Gray came back to their station. “Is he ready?” “Yes ma’am.” “I wanted to thank you both. I know that facing a renegade American unit is not within your typical mandate.” “It’s our country and our honor, ma’am,” Pierre answered with a straight face. Rosa t

