Our way isn’t the One True Path. These people just live differently. But I was too tired to argue further, especially with Watford, and let myself slump a little in the chair. “Sir.”
“All that said…” Watford leaned back. “I’m certain Habre will issue you a Congolese datalink.”
I straightened in surprise.
“But remember, Redding: if you use it to get yourself killed, everything will come apart here until we finish training your replacement.” Watford studied me with just a hint of sorrow. “The Congolese are expendable. You—are not.”
19I’m not sure I slept. I don’t remember time passing. Maybe I only blinked before the alarm rousted me. I staggered in to the very tail end of Montague’s breakfast up in the Spartan mess hall, sore and achy and eyes burning.
The whole crowded room erupted in
