Chapter 95
Elara's POV
We filed into a concrete building at the far end of the compound.
The tactical analysis room had screens covering three walls. A digital terrain map glowed on the center display.
Warren stood at the front. "You have ten minutes to study this scenario and develop an extraction plan. Small team. Six members. Trapped in hostile Pack territory. Limited ammunition. No air support."
The scenario loaded on screen.
I studied the terrain. Forest. River to the east. Enemy patrol routes marked in red. Our team's position highlighted in blue.
My mind was already working. Analyzing. Planning.
This was too easy.
I'd run operations like this a dozen times in the north. Real operations. With real consequences for failure.
The solution was obvious. Create a diversion to pull enemy forces west. Use the river for extraction. Set up a rear guard to buy time.
But I couldn't just write that down in two minutes. That would look wrong.
So I made myself sit. Stare at the screen. Pretend to think hard about it.
I tapped my pen against the desk. Chewed my lip. All the things someone struggling with a difficult problem would do.
Eight minutes in, I started writing.
When time was up, Warren collected our papers.
He called us up one by one to explain our plans.
Dylan went first. His strategy was aggressive. Direct assault to break through enemy lines.
Warren's face showed nothing. "Noted. Next."
Alice suggested a nighttime withdrawal using the forest for cover.
Better. But still risky.
When my turn came, I stood and pointed to the screen.
"The enemy expects us to run," I said. "So we give them what they expect. But not where they expect it."
I traced the route with my finger. "Small team splits. Two members create a noisy diversion here. Draw the patrol west. The other four use that window to reach the river. Swim downstream. Enemy won't expect water extraction because the current's too strong."
One of the Council observers leaned forward. "The current would be dangerous. You could lose people."
"Less dangerous than staying," I said. "And we set up a rally point downstream. Anyone who gets separated knows where to regroup."
Warren made a note. The observers exchanged looks.
I sat down. My pulse was too fast. I'd said too much. Been too confident.
Alice glanced at me. Her expression was impressed.
Dylan's face had gone from red to almost purple.
---
The wilderness survival test was the last one. They gave us basic tools and thirty minutes.
Build a shelter. Something that would actually protect you from the elements.
I found a spot between two trees. Backed by a rock face. Good wind protection.
My hands moved automatically. Gathering branches. Stripping bark for cordage. I'd built a hundred shelters like this.
The structure came together quickly. Lean-to style. Reinforced with a tarp from the supply kit.
Then I built a fire ring. Stones arranged properly for heat reflection.
I was about to stop when I noticed the thin rope in my pack.
Without thinking, I strung it between trees at ankle height. Tied small bells from the mess kit to it.
Perimeter alarm.
I stepped back. Looked at what I'd built.
It was good. Too good.
Warren came by to inspect. He walked around the shelter. Tested the frame. Examined the fire ring.
Then he saw the rope and bells.
He looked at me. "Where did you learn this?"
My mouth went dry. "Books. Survival manuals. I practiced in my backyard sometimes."
"Your backyard." His tone was completely neutral.
"Yeah."
He made a mark on his clipboard. Moved to the next shelter.
I stood there. Heart hammering.
That was stupid. So stupid.
Nobody sets up a perimeter alarm in a training exercise. Nobody except someone who'd actually needed one to survive.
---
Warren gathered us at the assembly area as the sun started to set.
"First day results," he announced. He had a tablet in his hand. "These rankings determine who continues to phase two. Top ten advance. The rest are done."
He read the names.
"First place. Grey, Elara. Perfect scores in marksmanship and combat. Excellent in tactical analysis and survival. Total: ninety-six points."
My stomach dropped.
Ninety-six. Out of a hundred.
Everyone turned to look at me.
Warren continued reading. "Second place. Williams, Adrian. Eighty-six points."
Alice was fourth. Eighty-two points.
Dylan was ninth. Barely made the cut at seventy-one points.
When Warren finished, people started talking. Whispers. Sideways glances in my direction.
I heard fragments.
"...has to have connections..."
"...no way that's natural..."
"...Council probably already picked her..."
Alice walked over. She smiled. It looked genuine.
"You were amazing today," she said. "Seriously. I've never seen anyone shoot like that."
"Thanks," I said. My voice came out quieter than I meant it to.
"You make it look easy."
Easy. Right.
I'd spent twenty years learning how to kill. How to survive. How to win.
These kids were playing at being soldiers.
I was the real thing.
And that was the problem.
---
The cafeteria was basic. Long tables. Plastic trays. Food that looked institutional and tasted worse.
I got my tray and headed for a corner table. Trying to be invisible.
Alice sat down across from me without asking.
"Mind if I join you?"
I shook my head. "Go ahead."
She started eating. We sat in comfortable silence for a minute.
Then Dylan walked past.
His shoulder slammed into the back of my chair. Hard enough to make it rock forward.
I grabbed the table edge. Kept my tray from sliding.
Alice's head snapped up. "What the hell, Dylan?"
He stopped. Turned around. That fake innocent expression on his face.
"Sorry," he said. His voice was flat. "Didn't see you there."
"Bullshit," Alice said.
Dylan's smile had no warmth in it. "Just clumsy I guess. Although some people here seem to have incredible luck with everything. Shooting. Fighting. Strategy. Must be nice."
The cafeteria got quieter. People were listening now.
Alice stood up. "If you have something to say, say it."
"I'm just making an observation." Dylan looked directly at me now. "It's interesting how someone with no Pack backing. No family connections. No training history. Suddenly shows up and dominates every single test."
My hands stayed flat on the table. I didn't move.
"You think the evaluation isn't fair?" Alice's voice was cold.
Dylan's face flushed red. "I didn't say that."
"Then what are you saying?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it. His jaw worked like he was chewing on words he wanted to spit out but couldn't.