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“Yes, sir.” He didn’t look convinced.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, partner,” Noah muttered. “I don’t like this.”
Neither did Seth.
He gave his friends a chin lift and sent them on another walk of the perimeter, then nudged Teagan toward the chow hall. “What are your observations, Teagan?”
“Same as your buddies. Richardson gave in too easily. He’s eager to make an example of you.” She paused. “Or one of us. I wouldn’t say he’s locked onto you as the example, though.”
“Yeah? Who is your pick?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say he’ll use me.”
He stopped and swung around to face her, hands fisting. “No. That won’t happen.”
“Think about it. He can’t afford to hurt Violet. She’s too valuable. According to him and Peters, snipers are thick on the ground in this compound. I’m dispensable.”
“Not to me.”
“You care about me, Seth. They don’t. Violet is critical to the health of the militia members and to Noah’s happiness. I’m only necessary to you.”
He cupped her chin. “No one is going to touch you. I gave you my word, and I won’t break it.”
She studied his face a moment before giving a slight nod. “Okay.”
Seth pressed his mouth to hers. Teagan didn’t believe he’d be able to protect her. Tough. He meant what he’d said. If Richardson and Peters dared lay hands on her, their blood would pool on the ground. No one would hurt Teagan without repercussions.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TEAGAN ACCOMPANIED SETHto the machinist’s shop after delivering Ivan’s coffee. As they walked through the camp, her nape prickled. Word was spreading about the new team who joined the militia. Wonder how soon someone would test their team. Wouldn’t be long.
She frowned. Perhaps not as a unit, though. Smarter to take them on one at a time. Sneak attack was a better bet. Taking them on as a team was a fool’s game, one the attacker would regret. Didn’t mean they wouldn’t try. Some kids couldn’t resist bullying everyone in the schoolyard to prove themselves. Those same kids grew up to be bullying adults. She’d met plenty of them in her work in the military and now with Fortress.
When they entered the shop, Ryan rose. “Just finished the keys,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. The machinist handed an envelope to Seth. “The original key’s in there, too.”
Seth shook Ryan’s hand. “We appreciate this.”
A shrug. “It’s my job.”
“You like the job?”
Another shrug but his lips turned down.
Teagan’s eyebrows rose. Another discontented militia member. Why hadn’t Peters and Richardson assigned a task suited to each member’s strength? Fortress spent a lot of time and money testing and training to each operative’s strengths. “What would you rather be doing than machinist work, Ryan?”
“Enforcer or camp guard.”
“Why?”
“It’s what I’m trained to do.”
Seth tilted his head. “What kind of training?”
“Military police. I used to be in the Army.”
“How long have you been out?” Teagan asked.
“Five years.” He grimaced and rubbed a hand over his belly. “I’m a little out of shape,” he muttered. “That’s why Mr. Richardson won’t give me a chance.”
