“Let me get this straight…” he said slowly. “You’re asking me to put aside my personal concern for your happiness and wellbeing?” “Yes. I need an army. I need funding. I need resources. I need time.” “And you want me to strategize as though this is some cold, unfeeling decision?” he asked, peering into her face as though searching for signs of madness. “No,” Wren told him. “I want you to strategize like this is war.”
