With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Pierce standing alone in the corridor, his face pale and his hands trembling.
She worked briskly to her office, not remorse at all for the words that left her lips.
She sat down and glanced around her office. She'd only been in here today and for the first time she was thankful to be back here.
Cassandra's office was a study in organized efficiency—tactical manuals arranged by subject, mission reports filed with a sort of obsessive compulsive rhythm.
A single photo of her graduating class from the academy years ago was on the table. She settled into her chair fully, her injured arm throbbing as she reviewed the day's events.
The mission had been successful by any reasonable metric, but the questions it raised were troubling. The Purge's capabilities, Kruel's industrial organization, the implications of SSS-rank soldiers—all of it pointed toward a war that was evolving faster than anyone had anticipated.
