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“Effective immediately,” Maggie continues, her gaze sweeping over the older men, “large-scale strategic overviews will no longer be conducted by committee. The daily briefings are becoming bloated with theoretical arguments. I will consolidate the intelligence myself.”

Hackett bristles. “You intend to cut us out of the planning?”

“I intend to issue orders, and you will execute them,” Maggie deadpans. She points a finger at the door. “From now on, the afternoon tactical sessions will involve myself and the Avaren liaison exclusively. You will receive your deployment schedules by eighteen-hundred hours. Dismissed.”

The silence in the room is deafening. A civilian female, surrounded by military males, systematically stripping them of their influence without raising her voice. It is a masterpiece of political maneuvering.

Hackett opens his mouth, his mustache quivering.

Maggie tilts her head, just a fraction. Her eyes narrow. It is a silent, lethal warning.

The general snaps his jaw shut. He snatches his clipboard from the table, spins on his heel, and marches out of the room. The other two follow quickly, casting venomous glares in my direction as they pass.

I wait until the doors hiss shut behind them, sealing us inside.

“A private audience.” I push off the doorframe and stalk slowly toward the table. “I am deeply honored, Maggie.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She doesn’t look up from the map. She picks up a red marker and crosses out a symbol near the river. “They were giving me a headache. And you are marginally more useful than they are when it comes to predicting Ghorvek swarm patterns.”

“Marginally.” I stop at the edge of the table, directly across from her.

“Barely,” she amends.

I extend my hand, and my command cube materializes out of the port in the center of my palm. I toss it onto her paper map. It lands with a soft clatter.

Maggie frowns at it. “What is that?”

“An upgrade.” I tap the top of the cube.

A soft hum fills the room. A beam of blue light shoots upward, fanning out across the table. The paper map disappears beneath a highly detailed, three-dimensional topographical projection of the British Isles. Glowing red dots pulse along the eastern seaboard. Blue markers designate her bunker locations.

Maggie instinctively leans back, her eyes widening slightly at the new-to-her technology illuminating the concrete walls.

“I didn’t ask for a light show,” she states, though she cannot stop her eyes from tracking a cluster of red dots moving near the Midlands.

“Your paper maps are outdated the moment you draw on them,” I reply. I walk around the edge of the table, closing the distance between us. I stop at her shoulder, close enough to smell the dark tea she drinks and the faint, citrusy scent of her skin beneath. “This links directly to the Sovereign’s orbital sensors. Real-time Ghorvek movement.”

She doesn’t step away. Three days ago, she would have put the table between us. Today, she holds her ground, her shoulder mere inches from my chest.

“Show me the Thames basin,” she orders, her voice devoid of inflection.

I reach out, my hand hovering over the hologram. I expand my fingers, and the projection zooms in, magnifying the river and the surrounding urban decay. The bridge remains intact.

“You took a massive risk this morning,” Maggie says softly, staring at the projection.

“I took a calculated action,” I reply with a faint smirk tugging up the corners of my lips.

Maggie narrows her eyes. “You went in without backup.”

“I am the backup.” I turn my head, looking down at her profile. The sharp line of her jaw, the stubborn set of her mouth. “You play not to lose, Maggie. You hoard your soldiers, you hide behind concrete walls, and you blow up bridges to delay the inevitable.”

She turns her head. Suddenly, her face is inches from mine. So close, her eyes hit me like a blow.

“I keep my people alive,” she counters, her voice a harsh whisper. “I do not have indestructible shields or a sword made of star-fire. If my men make a mistake, they become monsters.”

“And if you make a mistake?” I challenge, dropping my voice to match hers.

She huffs. “I don’t make mistakes.”