He stepped back slightly, letting his gaze take in the whole SRF squad. “Today was an improvement. But improvement isn’t the goal. Competence is the goal. You don’t train to be better than yesterday. You train so you don’t die tomorrow.
“Run your drills tonight. Hydrate. Be back here at 0700. We’ll run it again tomorrow. Cleaner. Faster. And this time, nobody freelances. Dismissed.”
As the SRF men broke, Mbeki caught Talon’s eye and gave a small, respectful nod. It wasn’t gratitude, but it was acknowledgment. Progress had been made, and Talon’s message had landed.
Beside him, Jug grinned faintly. “Think he’ll keep Kabila in check tomorrow?”
Talon’s lips curved just enough to be noticeable. “If he doesn’t, we’ll yank him.”
“Should be a fun day.” Hammer’s chuckle rolled low and approving.
The SRF squad had cleared the range, trudging back toward the barracks with gear slung and sweat-dark uniforms clinging to them.
Talon ran a hand across the back of his neck towork out the knots left by hours under the relentless sun. Beside him, Jug leaned against the plywood railing, watching the last of the SRF men disappear.
“They’re getting there,” Jug said, tone grudging.
Talon gave a short nod. “Yeah. But not fast enough.”
Jug’s brows lifted. “You worried?”
“I’m cautious,” Talon said. His eyes tracked the empty range. “They’ve got the muscle. Some of them even have the discipline. But if we had to field them tomorrow …” He shook his head.
Jug grunted. “Half of them would be in body bags.”
Talon didn’t argue.
Hammer’s voice cut in from below, the man heading toward the equipment shed. “We’ll grind them until they’re ready. They’re learning.”
“Some of them,” Jug said pointedly.
“Kabila,” Talon agreed. “He’s got the talent. He just hasn’t decided if he’s part of a team or a one-man army.”
Jug gave a sharp grin. “You handled him today. He’ll fall in line.”
Talon wasn’t as certain. But he’d keep hammering the lesson home until it stuck—or until Kabila was someone else’s problem.
They were halfway back to the Guardian compound when Talon’s phone buzzed in his cargo pocket. He glanced at the screen and smiled at Riley’s name.
Riley: How’s your day baking in the sun?
Another followed before he could answer.
Riley: Bet you’re ten degrees crankier by now.
Talon’s mouth tugged faintly at the corner. She had a way of cutting through his day without trying. He thumbed back.
Talon: I’m alive. SRF still in one piece. What’s going on, blue eyes?
Her reply came after a pause.
Riley: Nothing urgent. Just wondering when I’m going to see you again.
Talon frowned at the screen. The text was strange, not in her nature. She didn’t usually reach out midday unless there was something on her mind. But … yeah, something was off. He hit call. She answered on the second ring, her voice warm but threaded with something he couldn’t quite place.
“Hey. I didn’t mean to pull you off work,” she said.
“You didn’t,” he said, stepping out of the wind. “You okay?”
