Page 73 of Broken Oath

Soldiers without a country.

A division that officially didn’t exist.

“Shadow Division,” Rook said.

The warehouse went quiet.

Sniper slowly nodded.

Fathom looked toward the seven photographs.

“Shadow Division.”

Rook picked up the silver coin.

The sword pressed into his palm.

Outside, wind howled across the harbor.

Snow lashed the warehouse windows.

Inside, three dead men prepared to hunt the most powerful people in the country.

Shadow Division had taken its first breath.

5

ROOK

Six months after the ambush, the mountain still followed Rook into his dreams.

Gunfire across the ridges.

Tex bleeding beneath his hands.

Ridge walking toward the storage building.

Viking smiling through blood and smoke.

Prove him wrong.

Rook opened his eyes.

Darkness surrounded him.

For one disorienting second, he didn’t know where he was.

Then waves struck the pilings beneath the warehouse.

Wind pressed against the metal walls.

A narrow beam of moonlight crossed the small room Cutter had converted into sleeping quarters.

Alaska.

He was in Alaska.

Not Afghanistan.