“She would not identify who she was waiting for. Security should have removed her.”
Victoria looked at Andrew.
“I told him I had passed security.”
Andrew closed his eyes for a second.
“You were waiting for me.”
“You were late.”
“Physical therapy ran long.”
She glanced at his leg. “Still blaming therapists for your timing?”
“Tradition matters.”
For one strange second, the two old friends almost smiled.
Then Andrew looked at the photograph.
“He saw it?”
Victoria nodded.
Andrew turned to Blake.
“Did you recognize it?”
Blake hesitated.
“Some of it.”
“Which part?”
“The aircraft. The hangar line.”
Andrew’s face tightened.
“You have seen a different copy.”
Blake said nothing.
Victoria looked between them.
Andrew exhaled.
“The wounded man is me.”
Several sailors inhaled at once.
Blake stared at his father.
He knew.
That was why the photograph had unsettled him.
Andrew pointed to the younger man standing in the center with an arm around him.
