He stepped out of the black staff car wearing a crisp uniform that looked almost aggressively immaculate.
His eyes moved quickly across the parade ground.
Assessing.
Judging.
Calculating.
Beside him walked Colonel Victor Raines, the academy’s senior training commander, a tall man whose calm demeanor masked the constant pressure of keeping a base full of ambitious trainees functioning smoothly.
Whitaker spoke first.
“I’ve reviewed your training reports,” the admiral said, his voice carrying easily in the cold air.
Raines nodded carefully.
“And?”
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