“Keep your eyes on the road.”

At thirteen fifteen the white Mercedes came up the access road fast enough to lift dust against the fence.

The driver’s window came down before the car stopped rolling.

Vivian Harmon had her sunglasses on and her gold chain twisted around two fingers.

“I am expected at the airfield.”

“I need a permit tag, ma’am.”

“I don’t carry a permit tag.

I am Colonel Harmon’s wife.”