63
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 idiot 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 her autism. With Director Reese, it became clear that she simply didn’t care much for people. Similar but different. An observation Susan was sure Clarissa wouldnotappreciate.
Miranda waved again.
Susan excused herself, signaled Sadie to stay in her chair, and strode out onto the prow of the barge. It rose proudly in a great tapering curve that mimicked the reflection of the mosque’s onion dome to the side. Only the slightest breeze rippled the surface and offset the heat. This would be such a fine beach day. Yes, she and Sadie deserved some serious beach time when this was done. Bikini, sunscreen, a sunshade for Sadie, and stretch out with a good book. Who knew what interesting male might be walking by.
“What’s up, Miranda?”
In answer, Miranda handed over her phone.
There was no active call on the screen. Instead, there was an image of a satellite. Susan didn’t know anything about those.
“Scroll down,” Miranda said softly.
Technical specs. Orbital angle and period. Purpose: surveillance. Owner / operator:…
“Really?” she looked at Miranda.
Miranda nodded. “Roy wants you to make the Chinese man go away.”
“Roy? As in…” No point in asking. “Me?” She couldn’t imagine how the President knew she even existed. “And then?”
“He doesn’t know. But he wants you to make the Chinese man go away.”
Susan knew that Miranda hated repeating herself. Were her nerves climbing toward that edge again?
“I’m not questioning your math,” Susan said with great care, watching Miranda’s eyes. They were skittering about, looking for something safe to focus on, much faster than she’d seen before.
“Or Jeremy’s,” Miranda whispered.
“Or Jeremy’s, but are you both absolutely sure? This is huge, Miranda.”
She nodded tightly.
Well, everyone up to President Roy Cole himself depended on this woman. Her confirmation would have to be good enough.
In the background, she heard another spate of sharp voice tones at the table. At a nervous whine from Sadie, there was a sudden silence followed by a moment of brittle laughter.
“May I borrow this for a minute?”
Miranda barely managed a nod this time. By the sharpness of the tiny motion, Susan knew she couldn’t leave Miranda alone no matter how major the problem was at the table.
She caught Mike watching them, and waved him over. Then she crossed and met him halfway.
“Miranda needs all of the help she can get at the moment.”
He didn’t even nod, just kept on walking. But she could hear him ask aloud, “I have a question for you, Miranda. How do you think they clean those crazy onion-shaped domes after the gulls poop all over them?”
As Susan passed behind Andi, she looked at Holly and raised a hand as if saluting, but instead shaded her eyes and squinted. The military sign forWatch Out.
Holly swiveled her head once—and didn’t need more. “C’mon, Andi, let’s go see what’s ringing the prize bell.”
Susan had no idea what that meant, but they rose together and headed toward Miranda. She’d done all she could there and continued toward the conference.