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A ony pierced the air As Kneeler toppled to the ground, twitching, dying as his organs fried to a crisp, Money returned the gun to Bodyguard and wiped his hands in a job well done

One

Alien Investigation and Re Camp Day One

TRAINEE AFTER TRAINEE EMERGED froraduated froh, but most were in their early twenties, male, and obviously overwhel unabashedly as they carried their bags to their new digs: a rundown, luxuries-are-a-thing-of-the-past bunkhouse in the middle of an isolated valley

Isolated, and ugly There was dirt, dirt, and more dirt, with the occasional knotted, naked tree to spice things up Only thing that wasn’t a cohout the entirestretch, with its tall but thin brick walls, elevated beams, and manmade holes and pools, but by the end of the day, everyone here would hate the course so much they’d want to burn it down and dance on the ashes rather than look at it

The few females to disembark, well, they were in their early twenties, too, and just as overwheler

Poor, dumb kids They’d learn

Thirteen years ago, Agent Hector Dean had ridden in that bus himself Everyone on it had been yelled at, demoralized, and slapped around, all in an effort to weed out the pussies What those two girls didn’t know but should? The yelling, the de were just precursors for as to come

Poor, dumb, about-to-be-traumatized kids

Hector didn’t have to check the roster to learn the identities of his eager beavers He’d nized the pair from their photos Ava Sans and Noelle Tremain

Ava, a twenty-three-year-old fluff of fe in a pair of heels She had curly brown hair and chocolate brown eyes Cute in a Sunday school teacher kind of way Which was ironic She had a rap sheet with es than the Bible

She’d grown up in Whore’s Corner, the poorest part of New Chicago, with a drugged-out ers Hector could relate Not about theterrible one who’d enjoyed watching his young sons prize-fight, but about the drugged-outin Whore’s Corner

The WC here Hector had been born, chewed up, spit out, and reformed into the man—or weapon—he was today

Moving on

Noelle, also twenty-three years old, though she was a tall, reed-slender slice of elegance, with lighter brown hair that was straight as a board, and eyes of the lightest gray The product of old iant-assservants to attend her every whim

Hector could not relate

She was as lovely as a caoddess Which was also ironic She ht have a shorter rap sheet than Ava—ht her a cleaner file—but every one of her arrests had ste someone Violently

He didn’the’d been somewhat impressed with her before he’d seen her A foret down and dirty when necessary, uncaring whether they were hurt—or worse—always ents

Now he had to reevaluate She looked like a tasty after-dinner treat ready to throw a tantru, not a potential badass

He watched as she stretched her shoulders, her white T-shirt pulling tight over the plu down and worshipping flawless skin that so about relating and realized he wanted to do a little touching of his own