Page 60 of Under Pressure

He paused, narrowing his eyes on her.

“My understanding is that you’ve been seeing Delta again since our last rotation back. Is that accurate?”

“It’s been a little off and on.” Kendra nodded quickly, shifting in her heels. “More off than on.”

Warren gave her an understanding look—pensive and reflective. There was obvious concern in his eyes.

“He trusts you,” he stated, desert wind blowing sandy dirt up into their faces.

She tilted her head, a little surprised. “Why do you think that is?”

“He doesn’t fuck around. If he’s been with you, he trusts you,” Warren pressed. “That means I can, too.”

Her lips parted. She was taken aback. That was antithetic to everything she’d come to believe.

Warren continued, “Does he seem different to you since he’s been back?”

“Yes,” she breathed, barely in a whisper.

He leaned in, lowering his voice, “If you could help him, would you?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.

“Me too. Come with me,” Warren said, turning on his heel and marching intently toward the compound’s main doors.

Kendra had no idea what awaited her, but she didn’t want to fall behind. Her heels grinding into the packed dirt underneath her, she stumbled toward the doors. He ushered her into the building, swiping his access card off his utility belt, bypassing any security protocols to get her in. Kendra followed, surprised. He struck her as a man who lived and died by the rules.

Down a long, shadowy hallway, even darker in the setting sun, he stopped halfway and turned back to her. He closed the distance between them, leaving only a foot of space. Leaning down, in a hushed, nearly inaudible voice, the Special Warfare Operator spoke.

“You are a scientist?”

“I don’t know if I deserve that title.” She tilted her head, perplexed. “I’m just a shelved cop who likes to play in the lab. Why?”

Looking troubled, Warren continued, “There’s something that’s been going on behind my back, something I’ve just been made aware of. He’s not going to like that I’ve brought you here, but I’ve run out of options.”

“Okay.” She bit her lip, hesitant. “I’m not sure what I can do.”

“I need a scientist right now—one I can trust.”

Before she could ask what the fuck he was talking about, the chief had already turned and marched toward a door, which he flung open and ushered her through. As Kendra crested the entrance to the room, she realized she was entering a room filled with…SEALs. They were leaning into a long conference table, watching her as she stepped in. Her heels clicked on the floor, the only sound echoing in the room. The whole thing was almost like an out-of-body experience, and she almost stopped breathing as she avoided the gazes of the intense men.

He motioned for her to sit at an empty spot near the front.

“She was never here,” he shot down the table, a clear threat in his tone. “What happens in this room stays in this room. Any questions?”

No one challenged him, telling Kendra that Warren had the most authority.

Kendra immediately sat, continuing to look away from the table. The tone in the space was cold. She had been undercover enough times to know how to play on the fly—but this was different. She was sharing a table with fifteen trained killers.

Heat rose up her neck as the chief began speaking again. He moved to stand at the smartboard near the front, where a presentation was waiting. She sat with her hands in her lap, taking no notes, making no noise. Something about the tension in the room told her there was a big problem.

“We’ve all worked our asses off to be here,” Warren started, standing firmly at the top of the table. “We’ve all tried every fucking program to make us stronger, fitter…better operators.” He paused, looking around at heads nodding, and continued, “And that’s why I have to share this with you.”

Warren leaned over to the laptop on the desk, clicked a button and straightened up again to point to the images that had flashed across the presentation screen. She realized that it was a photocopy of a partially shredded lab report, signed by someone styled as a doctor. He flipped through sequences of RNA, getting to the Cas9 protein. Her mouth dropped open when she got what they were talking about.

“We find ourselves in a new era,” Warren thundered down the table, “one where scientists are trying to enhance our biological abilities. They’re trying to give us heightened advantage at the apex of battle. Power, focus, aggression—a thousand times more potent and a thousand times more dangerous. Yes, it’s the plot to a bad sci-fi movie, but this is really happening.”

Warren’s line of sight lingered on one or two of the younger-looking SEALs, before turning back to the smartboard.

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