The cadets see their professor beam onto her dais in the newly built lecture hall just before she glances around at all the second year and a few enterprising first year academy cadets arrayed in the few hundred seats surrounding her. Her eyes taking in the few empty seats scattered here and there throughout the hall. More than she expected. The male cadets appreciating her Academy issue uniform showing her long legs and many female cadets glad she is not their age and competing for the same males whenever time allows.

"You'd be a fool not to test the waters."

Becky Waters was a wise woman. She hired me twice at Grande Illusions, once as 19-year-old college sophomore. The other as a person in his 30s who was down on his luck.

She knew the man making the proposal.

Frank Cignetti was a respected business man in the community. His wife, Marie, was also well respected, too.

"From everything I'm told, he really doted on his wife," she said.

She reminded me of the long hours at the club, although she told me she hated to lose me.

Air Force Sweetheart TacPzlSolGp Chapter 28/34   by T. D. Aldoennetti

previously:

Nora looks like she’s nervous and continues to look around at the lithographs on the walls and the tables covered with tablecloths with silverware instead of flatware, and china cups, saucers and plates.

I ask, “Just a little ostentatious, isn’t it, General?”

He looks a little apologetic, but explains, “We frequently have congressmen here, or out of country leaders of one kind or another. It wouldn’t do to take them down to the cafeteria. Then too, this room is shielded and swept for bugs and it has jamming equipment built in to prevent electronic eavesdropping, so we can discuss classified material here.”

He gestures to what looks like small air-conditioning ducts or hi-fi speakers above each table. “Each table has it’s own sonic generator above the table throwing a curtain of white noise around the table and its occupants. It isn’t 100% effective, probably closer to 20% or 30% for each table, but by the time the conversation makes its way out through one and in through another it tends to muddy up the conversations enough that nearby diners inside their generator’s influence can’t understand conversations next to them which occur at normal levels. Of course if one were to yell then that would overpower the measures taken. We just learn to talk quietly in here, so the odds are much more in the favor of secrecy.”

“Impressive, Sir.” Now that I’m concentrating, I can hear a slight whooshing sound, like the sound made by the air nozzles above the passenger seats on a commercial airliner, or maybe a radio tuned between stations, pure static. Hmmm.

Mistakes can happen at the North Pole too. Damn computers!

Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any and all references to names, products, toys, persons, etc. are entirely the work of my demented imagination. This is also set in the same plane (universe) as Bobby and Bethany. For lack of a better term, I'll call it the CarlaVerse for now

No toys were injured or kept up past their bedtimes in the making of this story.

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