Chapter 5 — The Man in the Rust Coat
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THE QUIET SPECIALIST
Vance's heel skidded across the damp patch, and his smile vanished. I could have let him fall. Instead, I caught his sleeve and turned with him, trying to keep his head away from the concrete beyond the mat. He was heavier than I expected. His shoulder struck mine, a hot pain opened beneath my collarbone, and we landed awkwardly together. His knee hit first. Mine followed. For half a breath, I was kneeling beside him with his wrist between my hands. Then the room returned. Fans. Rubber. Someone's unfinished laugh. I released him immediately. "Sorry," I said. The apology made everything worse. Vance jerked his arm back and shoved himself upright. Red had climbed above his collar. Behind him, a private lowered the phone he had been holding against his chest. "Slippery mat," Vance said. "Yes, Sergeant." He looked at me as though agreement were another insult.
THE MARK BENEATH HER COLLAR
The slap reached the far end of Fort Calder’s training square before the truth did. Four hundred officer candidates stood beneath a white Georgia sun, boots aligned on painted marks and sweat gathering beneath stiff collars. I occupied the second file of Third Platoon, close enough to hear Cadet Grant Halbrook’s breathing when he struck Private Elise Rowan across the face. Her head turned with the force. A thin line of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. Nobody moved.
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THREE MINUTES
The first man reached me with the pool cue raised over his shoulder. I moved before he could bring it down. My palm struck the center of his chest, not hard enough to crush anything, but hard enough to steal his balance. His boots slid through the water around Butch. The cue clipped a hanging lamp, showering the nearest table with glass, and the man landed across two chairs that folded beneath him. The second Viper came low with a knife. I trapped his wrist against my hip, turned until his fingers opened, then sent the knife skittering beneath the counter. He tried to bite me. I drove my shoulder into him and guided him face-first onto the table. The other three stopped—until Butch shouted from the floor, “Kill him!”
