They were like sponges, Charlotte discovered, and absorbed everything around them; speech patterns, knowledge, gossip and even gestures implanted firmly in their intelligence cores.
Over the long years Daniel had worked alongside the Director, he had picked up his calm demeanour and perfectionist professionalism.
"Where is she, David?"
"She is currently in the Director’s office, Chairman." Even his tone was the same as the Director’s; careful and calculated.
"Call her here; we can’t reach her. She’s turned off her communicative link to all but a few."
"I cannot do that, sir." A polite smile as he closed his eyes briefly and ducked his head respectfully. "She is presently occupied."
"And the Director? They’re wasting our time, David. We need them here now." His voice was laced with irritation and his mouth teetered on a scowl.
"I cannot call him either, Chairman. I apologise, and for future reference my name is Daniel."
Hang on. Charlotte raised her brows, noting the faint smile he wore and the way his eyes crinkled. That was certainly not a habit of the Director’s.
"Well where is he?" The man demanded impatiently.
Oh dear. Charlotte recognised that look. Sass. He’d learned how to sass from Grell.
"He’s on his desk with Agent Sutcliff."