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Wiley left Judge and stepped into the shadow with the woman.
Judge squinted against the glaring light shining down on his face while Wiley and his female counterpart whispered in the darkness.
Judge strained to hear.
“I still don’t think he’s right for us,” she said.
“He’ll work out fine. His shooting skills are better than most, even after we train them.” He paused. “Augustus has tasked us with standing up an army in a hurry. We can’t pass on this one.”
“He’s too belligerent,” she argued. “Too volatile.”
Judge could swear he recognized that voice. He just couldn’t put his finger on it right away. Whomever it was invoked good vibes, not feelings of trepidation.
“If he’s volatile,” Wiley said, “it’s because he needs training.”
“He’ll be stubborn and hard to mold into the TCW way of thinking.”
“That’s why he has to have one of our best train him.”
“I still say we turn him loose,” the woman said.
“We don’t turn people loose,” Wiley said in a stone-cold tone.
“He doesn’t know where we are, so he can’t lead anyone back here,” she said. “We just have to take him out the way we brought him in.”
“You know that’s not possible,” Wiley said. “It’s train him or…”
Judge could fill in the blank himself. Either the two weren’t aware that their voices were carrying enough for him to overhear their conversation, or they wanted him to know the only alternatives.
Although he worked at the bindings on his wrists, they were firmly in place. His upper torso was wrapped in duct tape, which was secured to the back of a chair. He might be able to break the chair, but he doubted he’d be fast enough to evade recapture.
And they might decide to eliminate him rather than deal with him before he got away.
“Fine,” the woman said. “We’ll keep him.”
Judge released the breath he’d been holding.
“Glad you finally agree,” Wiley said. “As we’ve lost so many of our best people, this now makes it pretty obvious why you will be the best one of us to conduct his training.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said.
“Besides, Augustus specifically asked for you.”
PJ’s eyes narrowed. “So you say.”
“You can ask him yourself when he pays us a visit.”
PJ’s expression remained unchanged. “And when will that be?” she asked, her tone flat and her words lazy as if she were bored.
“When he decides the time is right,” Wiley clapped his hands together. “In the meantime, we have work to do.”
PJ nodded, drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Footsteps sounded behind Judge, and Wiley emerged from the shadows into the light. “Welcome New Recruit Judge. You’ve been accepted, in a probationary status, into The Chosen Way. You’ll undergo training with one of our best.” He waved a hand to his side and took a step backward. “Judge, this is your trainer, PJ.” He grinned. “I believe you know her from the tavern.”
Judge’s breath caught in his lungs as if he’d been sucker punched as the waitress from the tavern stepped into the light, all of her sandy-blond hair tucked beneath a black ball cap. She wore dark jeans and a dark jacket. The only things she wore that were the same as when she’d worked in the tavern were the black combat boots.
She stood with her legs slightly parted, her chin held high and her face stony cold. She met his gaze. “I don’t tolerate insubordination. We have a job to do. I don’t expect pushback on anything I have you do.” Her eyebrows dipped into a V over her nose. “Do you have a problem working with a female?”
