Chapter 7 - The Tap of a Cane
Two days later, Leo’s energy had completely rebounded, and we spent the afternoon exploring the vibrant, sun-drenched alleys near the Plaza Mayor.
The scent of roasting chestnuts, cured jamón, and espresso drifted from every corner café. Leo was busy chasing pigeons near a stone fountain while I sat on a wrought-iron bench, sipping a café con leche and watching him with a quiet smile.
“He has your eyes, you know.”
The voice came from beside me—smooth, cultured, carrying the slight British cadence of someone who had lived decades abroad.
I turned my head.
Sitting on the other end of the bench was an elderly man in a tailored charcoal tweed coat, leaning on a silver-topped walking cane. He wore dark sunglasses, but the lines around his eyes and the sharp, calculating posture gave away an acute awareness that defied his apparent age.
My muscles tensed instantly. Maya Lin didn't get randomly approached by men in tweed coats who commented on her son unless there was a reason.
“I’m sorry?” I said, keeping my voice perfectly level.
The man tilted his head, offering a thin, polite smile. “Major Lin. Or should I say, Dr. Lin? It’s been quite a few years since the Pentagon’s tactical review board watched you walk away from the flight line.”
I didn't flinch. I didn't reach for anything. I simply looked him dead in the eye. “Who are you?”
“A retired logistics officer who appreciates exceptional airmanship,” the man replied softly, tapping his cane against the cobblestone. “And someone who knows that when a Boeing 777 loses its primary bus over the mid-Atlantic and executes a textbook formation rendezvous with NATO interceptors using an analog emergency loop... people start asking questions about who was really sitting in the left seat.”
I stood up slowly, stepping slightly in front of the bench to shield Leo from view. “If you’re here representing military intelligence or a board of inquiry, you’re wasting your time. I’m a civilian. I’m on vacation with my son.”
May you like
“Relax, Dr. Lin,” the man chuckled softly, raising a gloved hand in a placating gesture. “I’m not here to drag you back into uniform. In fact, quite the opposite. I’m here to offer you a proposition.”
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