How the hell does he know that?
“That program,” he continues, “attracted attention.”
Russ’s expression darkens immediately.
“What kind of attention?”
The commander smiles faintly.
“The kind attached to very expensive contracts.”
Contracts.
God.
This isn’t militia activity.
This is trafficking.
Private military acquisition.
Black market contracting.
The realization crashes into me hard enough to make me feel sick.
“They wanted me because of the training,” I whisper.
“Yes.”
Clay finally moves again.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
“And who is they?”
The commander’s eyes sharpen slightly.
“That information exceeds your clearance.”
Wrong answer.
I feel the rage roll off Clay instantly.
Raw.
Violent.
Barely controlled.
Because now this isn’t just about kidnapping.
Someone hunted me specifically.
Planned this.
Prepared for Clay to come after me.
