General Arthur Vance stopped walking five feet directly behind Evan’s chair.

He put both of his broad hands behind his back and laced his fingers together, standing at his full six foot two.

General Vance said nothing, his jaw set hard as his icy gray eyes locked onto the back of Evan Carter’s neck.

Clara Higgins leaned forward from the middle seat in row 11, moving her heavy canvas shoulder bag between her knees.

She held a small blue notepad flat on her left thigh, her thumb pressed hard against the spiral wire.