Sophie shook her head against my sweater.

She just kept crying softly into the wool.

I rubbed slow circles on her back, feeling my hope of a peaceful civilian vacation slipping away.

Caldwell snapped his fingers in the air over the top of his seat.

“Bring me the Denver file, David,” Caldwell demanded.

“We have less than five hours until the seven o’clock closing.”

David hurried to open the brass latches on his briefcase.

He pulled out a thick manila folder full of legal documents.