grunt.”
Cari slumped back against her seat. Her stab of pity for the little boy battled with practical reality.
“You know the crap is going to hit the fan big-time if we take these kids out of Caribe without authorization from their government.”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe about it. Remember the international furor over the Cuban kid, Elian Gonzales?”
“There’s a difference here. Elian Gonzales had a father who wanted him back. These kids are orphans. Throwaways, as Janice White described them, probably because of their disabilities. If their government had bothered with them at all, they would have been shuffled into some institution or foster home.”
A muscle ticked in the side of his jaw. For a moment his expression was remote, closed, unreadable. Then he tore his gaze away from the screen. The hard edges to his face softened and he gave Cari a quick, slashing grin.
“I say we take them out with us.”
She fell a little in love with him at that moment. Here he was, the all-or-nothing, you’re-in-or-you’re out, gung ho marine, putting his military career on the line for a boatload of kids.
Only belatedly did she remember she’d be putting her career on the line, too.
Oh, well. If she’d learned nothing else during her years of service, she’d discovered it was a whole lot easier to ask for forgiveness after the fact than obtain permission beforehand.
“Seeing as they’re already on board,” she replied with an answering grin, “I say we take them with us, too. But I’ll let you advise Captain Westfall of our additional passengers,” she tacked on hastily.
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