Chapter Twenty
From her comfortable seat at the long white table, Ilse surveyed the conference room walls slowly and methodically, taking in all the details of the projected paintings of different famous generals and admirals.
She cared little about military history, Army or Fleet, even if they were her current employer, but even she recognized some of the men and women on the walls. Most wore stern expressions, and medals and ribbons festooned to their dress uniforms in an inscrutable pattern she’d never bothered to learn. She shook her head.
The pictures bothered her.
It was the uniforms that annoyed Ilse. They always had, even when she was a child. There was something about the idea of forcing conformity down to appearance that repelled her.
The very point of a uniform was to take
