"We're not here as enemies." Sinn's voice carried from ahead as the soldiers pushed us forward toward the mission room. "We're here to work with anyone willing to work with us. For these walls. For everything beyond them."
I walked beside Sherry, four soldiers close at our backs, their boots echoing heavily down the sterile corridor. The harsh overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting long, stark shadows that stretched ahead of us.
"Move, bitch." One of them hissed from behind, close enough that I felt the hot breath of the word on the back of my neck.
I stopped dead and turned sharply. Small eyes. Thin mustache. Gun raised, the posture of someone handed authority five minutes ago and already drunk on it. My jaw tightened, fists clenching at my sides.
"Don't talk to her like—"
"Walk, cunt." He cut me off flat, jabbing the barrel forward an inch.
Not now, I told myself, forcing my hands to relax. Not here. My pulse hammered in my temples as I turned back around.
