“If you three get on your knees right now and apologize to Tank for wasting his time, maybe we’ll let you finish your meal.” A dead zone had formed around the table. Other recruits watched with morbid curiosity, but no one moved to help. A few even pulled out their phones, hoping to catch a viral moment.
Miller stood up, leaving his tray on the table. He was outweighed by Tank by at least eighty pounds, but he didn’t look away. “I’m not getting on my knees, and neither are they.” That was Victoria’s cue. She stepped into the center of the circle, looking like a confused office worker. She gave them a bright, pleasant smile.
“Excuse me, guys,” she said in a polite, administrative tone. “Is there some kind of problem here?” The bullies turned to look at her. Tank looked her up and down, noting her small stature and her non-combat uniform. He gave a dismissive snort.
“Take a hike, lady. This is a man’s conversation,” the big man snapped. Victoria nodded, keeping the smile fixed on her face. “I see. And does a ‘man’s conversation’ usually involve demanding people get on their knees?” she asked innocently.
Spider sneered. “It’s called discipline. Some people need to learn their place. In the military, respect is earned with sweat and blood.” “How true,” Victoria agreed, as if he’d just shared a profound piece of wisdom.
“Respect is earned. It’s hard to argue with that.” She looked each of them in the eye, still playing the part of the naive staffer. “So, tell me—what exactly have you five done to earn so much respect?” Diesel took an aggressive step toward her, trying to use his size to intimidate her.
