emn, quiet power. The air was cool and smelled of polished leat

r, the two custom-made ebony urn bo

y door s

espect throughout the Pentagon, strode into the room. He wave

ed shut, leavi

dn't offer his hand for a shake. Instead, he broug

er, and she returned the salute with a crispness that

to his briefcase. He pulled out a heavy, leat

with emotion as he handed it to her. "A classified commen

weight of it felt heavy in

Drone Warfare Strategy Bureau at the Pentagon has an empty chai

at the ebony boxes

"I have a debt to collect in the civil

od. Just remember, the United States military

, Frankie was b

en, depositing her directly into t

oth urns in her arms. The wood was smooth, unadorne

room, the sound of clinking porcelain

t sofa, hosting a high tea for her wealthy socialite friends. Ken

ed the second F

visibly recoiled, her manicured fingers flying up to pinch her

ating. "Did you have to bring that in here? The whole apar

djusted her grip on the heavy box and kept walking, headi

p down onto the saucer. T

ss rustling, and marched o

ndignation. "You will not bring that bad luck into my

eyes lifted, lockin

. She turned to the two uniforme

r at the box. "Take that piece of junk from her an

e imposing matriarch and the silent wife. Slowly, the

ut the air around her seemed to

he kind forged in the blood and dirt of active warzones-ex

" Frank

, but it carried the weight of a lo

ror radiating from Frankie's gaze. They stumbled backward, one of them t

her mouth falli