The oversized military jacket hung awkwardly on her small frame, the sleeves slightly too long. Underneath, she wore a fitted charcoal T-shirt and standard issue tactical pants that somehow made her look less like a soldier and more like someone who had wandered into the wrong building by mistake.
Like a tourist who had accidentally stepped onto a battlefield.
Sergeant Maddox slowly stood up.
At six-foot-three with a linebacker’s build and the relaxed confidence of someone who had spent years commanding respect, he moved toward her with the casual swagger of a man who knew the entire room was watching.
His squad followed like a pack of wolves who had already decided what the night’s entertainment would be.
“You lost?” Maddox asked.
The woman blinked.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the paper cup, and for a moment she looked exactly like what everyone assumed she was — a civilian who had just realized she had made a terrible mistake.
“I… I was told to report here,” she said softly.
Her voice barely carried past the nearest tables.
