Taz knew something strange was going on, but she had no idea what.
She stopped for a moment.
She and Jeremy were the only two inside the Caravan airplane.
No one else.
First, Miranda wasn’t up here. Maybe she was afraid of heights. That she was both an air-crash genius and a nice person was awesome, but tracking her myriad quirks was something Taz could never wrap her head around.
andIn Taz’s nineteen years as a general’s aide at the Pentagon, she had learned that being both a genius and a nice-person was actually a common pairing—pity it occurred so rarely. It was as if the real geniuses, with nothing to prove, could afford to be pleasant. It was the wannabes who were utter egotistical assholes.
hadAt least them she understood. Like knew like.
She’d survived Mexico and San Diego st
