The cloak and dagger idea surprised Fareeha. She never pegged Angela for the type to manipulate. But could the idea work?

Kalte was the wild card. Her own officers were too. She trusted her men with her life as they did hers. But to feign a death? If word got out to command, the whole company would be punished for her actions. However, the aid gained from Talon, if they kept their word, was an invaluable asset. Who knew what the organization had? If they could produce supplies and troops that were potentially well trained, the war effort would benefit from Fareeha and Angela's agreement.

"We have an hour to decide?" Fareeha asked. Scrunching her brows together, how was she going to contact Kalte and her people? Using the main channels was out of the question. Operators monitored the chatter constantly for logistical updates and battlefield developments. Even whispering the idea over the comms was out of the question. It had to be word of mouth. She had to find the officers herself.

"Angela. You're tired. Weary. I'm about to ask you to do something. If you cannot, no shame in saying no." Fareeha pointed at her ribs. "If we're going to do this, I need to talk to my officers in person. No radio. No messenger. Minimize the chances of this becoming public news. I'll be blunt. I don't want to have anything to do with Talon. I think they're fundamentally evil. If they can help the war, however, then perhaps a necessary evil is necessary. And I have faith in you."

She looked pointedly at the doctor. "Can you do this? Be honest," she said. "A few pain meds is an alternative. No pressure."