The voice was low, carrying the familiar, gravelly timbre of Cole’s voice.

I did not answer.

I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing the cool steel of my small pocket knife.

It was a useless weapon against him, but the weight of it gave me a brief anchor.

“I saw the rental car down the block,” Cole said, his footsteps stopping at the base of the stairs.

“You always park too far from the curb when you’re nervous.”

I slid behind the heavy mahogany desk, pressing my back against the bookshelves.

The brass latch of the secret compartment was still warm from my fingers.

“The General wants to resolve this tomorrow,” Cole said, his voice closer now, just outside the study door.

“He wants it kept inside the family.”

“By ‘family,’ he means the Department of the Army,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady in the dark.

I heard him sigh, a short, sharp intake of air.

He stepped into the room, his silhouette filling the doorway.

Even in the gloom, I could see the sharp cut of his dress uniform, the brass buttons catching the faint streetlamp light.