Page 58 of Broken Oath

Then his attention shifted toward the road.

A man was approaching the graves.

Captain Sam Cutter.

Retired Navy SEAL.

Former commander.

One of the few men Sarah believed Rook could trust.

She remained hidden as Cutter joined them.

The moment Rook turned away, Sarah disappeared into the rain.

Rook watched Sam Cutter approach.

The retired captain carried four cups of coffee in a cardboard tray and walked with the easy confidence of a man who had spent most of his life entering dangerous places.

Cutter had led teams before Rook earned his trident.

He had taught Rook how to recognize an ambush, how to survive a failed extraction, and how to carry the weight of command without letting it crush the men beneath him.

He was also supposed to believe Rook was dead.

Cutter stopped several feet away.

His gaze moved over Rook.

Then Sniper.

Then Fathom.

He showed no surprise.

Rook’s hand drifted beneath his coat.

“Easy,” Cutter said. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have brought coffee.”

Sniper studied the cardboard tray. “Could be poisoned.”

Cutter handed him a cup.

“Then yours definitely is.”

Sniper accepted it. “I always liked you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“True.”

Cutter gave the other cup to Fathom before extending one toward Rook.

Rook didn’t take it.

“How did you find us?”

Cutter’s humor disappeared.