13
Justin did his best to appear normal in public, but how was a man supposed to do that when he had Captain Kara Moretti embedded in his nervous system?
He’d fly a night mission into Libya—
They’d been doing that a lot for the last few weeks. The Peleliu had been called west from Israel as yet another faction shattered the delicate balance of the post-Gaddafi power vacuum.
—and he’d feel himself smiling as Kara guided him from her perch in the sky. He could feel her six miles above, inside her ground control station a hundred kilometers offshore, and so far inside him that there was no separation at all.
Last night he’d slipped the Calamity Jane into the backstreets of Tripoli out near Tajoura, well beyond the Second Ring Road. It was far enough from the US embassy not to draw attent
