In the dream, she was back in Korea. She was powerless to do anything, completely unable to resist. He and his henchmen dragged her to the little room. She began to scream, but no one came and the men began to pummel her.
“Hey.”
Lia shook herself awake, practically jumping out of the seat. She was in an airplane with Charlie Dean — an Air Force VIP jet that had been used to take the Secretary of State to France. It had been detailed to take them home at the President’s direct order.
“Bad dream?” asked Dean, sitting across from her.
A dream? Yes. A nightmare. And more.
She’d gotten past it. Whether that was good or not — what that really meant — she didn’t know.
“Hey, did you have a dream or what?” Dean asked again.
“None of your business, Charlie Dean.”
He grabbed her arm. “You are my business,” he said.
She frowned but then said softly, “Just a dream.”