“We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir. Do you have family that I should ask?” “Oh, Julian! No, my family is dead, lost. ‘She means thanks to you, General,’ Gerald translated automatically, forgetful of his old commander’s fiery temper. Rain changed to hail, then 154 sleet, then snow. For a time she promenaded the room. “Hey, Mike.
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