I looked around, picked up another headset, put it on, and said, ‘Blow me.’ ‘Excuse me?’ came Gard’s somewhat outraged voice over the intercom. ‘Not you, blondie. I was talking to Marcone.’ Marcone folded his arms in his seat, half smiling. ‘It’s all right, Miss Gard. Compassion dictates that we must make allowances. Mister Dresden is a diplomatically challenged individual. He should be in a shelter for the tactless.’
