Lara and the Navy

"God," I said, not two full seconds later. "Molly. Where is she?"
Murphy looked up at me as she settled down to hold the child. The girl murmured a sleepy complaint, and Murphy rocked her gently to soothe her back to sleep. "Wow. You were really out of it. You didn't see the helicopter?"
I raked through my memories of the night. "Um. No."
"After . . ." She glanced at me and then away. "After," she said more firmly, "Thomas found a landline and made a call. And a navy helicopter landed right out there on the lawn less than an hour later. Lifted him, Molly, and Mouse right out."
"Mouse?"
Murphy snorted gently. "No one was willing to tell him he couldn't go with Molly."
"He takes his work seriously," I said.
"Apparently."
"Do we know anything?" I asked.
"Not yet," Murphy said. "Sanya's manning the phone in the visitors' center. We gave Thomas the number before he left."
"Be honest, Sergeant Murphy," the Leanansidhe said quietly as she glided back over to me. "You gave the dog the number."
Murphy eyed her, then looked at me and said defensively, "Thomas seemed to have enough on his mind already."
I frowned.
"Not like that," Murphy said sternly. "Ugh. I wouldn't have let him go with her if he'd seemed . . . all weird."
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah. Mouse wouldn't have, either, would he."
"He was in no danger of losing control," my godmother said calmly. "I would never let such a promising prospect be accidentally devoured."
Sanya appeared, jogging around the lower end of the pyramid from its far side. Esperacchius hung at his side - and Amoracchius, still in its sheath on Susan's white leather belt, hung from his shoulder.
I stared at the belt for a moment.
It hurt.
Sanya came chugging up the stairs, moving lightly for a big guy with so much muscle. He gave my godmother a pleasant smile, one hand checking to be sure that Amoracchius was still on his shoulder.
"Next time," Lea murmured.
"I think not," Sanya said, beaming. He turned to me. "Thomas called. He seemed surprised it was me. Molly is on navy cruiser on maneuvers in Gulf of Mexico. She will be fine."
I whistled. "How did . . . ?" I narrowed my eyes.
"Lara?" Murphy asked quietly.
"Got to be," I answered.
"Lara has enough clout to get a navy chopper sent into another country's airspace for an extraction?" Murphy kept on rocking Maggie as she spoke, seemingly unaware that she was still doing it. "That's . . . scary."
"Yeah," I said. "Maybe she sang 'Happy Birthday, Mister President.' "


Changes Chapter 49, Page 533-534