Page 35 of Hunted

I nodded, secured my own vest, and went to load up its pockets with spare magazines. As I turned, my gaze clashed with the intense hazel stare of our resident weapons instructor.

Pearce grinned darkly and inclined his head, confirming my suspicions—and probably passing the first element of his assessment without ever setting foot inside the building that was to become a marksman’s playground.

After Fleur’s murder and his son’s implication in it, Commander Varco had decided to move up our cohort’s Graduation Day and assignment ceremony—to next week. Therefore the compound assessment—arguably the most important and most dangerous—had been moved up as well. Tequila hangover notwithstanding, I had a clear shot at Eagle designation.

All I had to do was get my team through the day and take out the most targets while doing so, and my slot at the top was all but secured.

I broke eye contact first, choosing indifference over violence—for now, at least. Sebastos was right there, leaning against the wall across the room smirking at me. And as I palmed a military dagger in one hand, I couldn’t help but grin back.

Sebastos Varco was a dead man walking.

He just didn’t know it yet.

[ 13 ]

ADDIE

PARAMORE – IGNORANCE

“Alrighty, recruits,” Pearce called from the front of the room. He stood like a general—like he owned every inch of the space he occupied—and with a frame like that, who could believe otherwise?

“Two teams will run through—one at a time—entering into a time trial scenario. Find the mark, capture them, then get the hell outta there. The quicker the time and the more hostiles downed, the more points you’ll earn.

“Round two will see both teams enter at the same time, this time from opposite ends of the compound. Locate the new mark. Once you’ve found him or her, you must retrieve the information they’re holding through whatever means you find necessary, and make your way back here. Whichever team gets to them first will have to hold off the other until you extract the right information.

“First team out wins—but only if you have the correct keyword. Otherwise, back in you go.”

His smile told us exactly how much he’d enjoy that particular scenario—and also how likely that was to happen.

“No foul play—remember, these are live rounds. Your vests and helmets will only do so much to stop stray bullets from killing you, but you’re not as untouchable as you’d like to believe.”

He paused to shoot a pointed look at Sebastos, while I was stuck ruminating on his choice to reiterate the live rounds part.

I didn’t check the bullets as thoroughly as the gun, dammit.

“Don’t forget”—he tapped his forehead, showcasing his tally-tattooed forearm—“we can see what you’re doing at all times with your headcams on, and will be reviewing all footage upon completion. Any attempt at tampering with your cams will result in instant disqualification.

“Your rankings will be finalised by end of day, though you won’t find out what they are until Graduation, wherein you will receive your assignments.”

His eyes drifted across the sixteen sombre faces staring back at him, landing on mine as he finished the less-than-encouraging speech.

“You have five minutes to assign a team leader and come up with a game plan. Good luck.”

We broke off into our respective teams, each taking a corner of the room. Eth and I were joined by Dakarai, his friend Ace, a girl ironically named Mercy, her friend Cohen, that boy I still hadn’t learned the name of… and Bodie Travers.

Seb’s lackey glared at me, his fingers twitching on the butt of his holstered gun like he’d love nothing more than to draw it and shoot me right here, right now.

I glowered right back, all but daring him to do it. Probably not the wisest decision while we were about to go through a staged compound with live ammunition, but I’d already stared death down once in the last twenty-four hours and come out on top—what was another handful before the day was through?

“Focus,” Eth snapped, gaze snagging on the staring contest. “Does anyone want Team Leader?”

“I do,” Bodie barked. His meaty face reddened when he was only met with snorts of derision from the rest of the team.

“Pfft,” Mercy snickered. “As if any one of us would follow you and your sheep brain into battle. I vote Cohen for TL.”

Cohen startled, then preened, all but ready to take the red patch marked TL for Team Leader out of Ethan’s waiting palm.

Eth clenched his fingers around it, tutting. “Not so fast. We have four minutes left to come to an agreement. Anyone else keen to throw their name in?”