Caroline ignored the edge in Windsor's voice. She reached into her backpack, pulled out a military-issue canned meal, and said, “I have this.” Windsor and Wilbur traded a quick look when they saw the can. Their eyes lit with real interest. Caroline knew at once that she had guessed right. If the leader loved roasted chicken, then she had to be someone who loved meat. The can itself was nothing special, yet she held a major advantage in bulk. Her entire backpack carried military cans, at least 30 of them. She refused to show all of them out here. Too many people lingered, and she knew that canned food would draw attention from far more than just the leader. “So tell me, can I meet your leader now?” Caroline slipped the can back into her bag and lifted her eyes to them. The brothers gave no answer. They did not even look her way. Their attention locked on Raven instead. “This mutt can't come inside.” Caroline hated leaving Raven alone, but the brothers raised their chins with smug pride. “Don't worry. Nobody here has the guts to make a move.” Caroline leaned down and whispered instructions into Raven's ear. She only followed the brothers once she felt sure he understood. A few people slipped in behind her after she stepped inside the building. They looked like they also came to trade for holy water. As she walked, she felt the brothers watching her. Their eyes carried a weight that made her shoulders tense. Windsor's stare felt the worst. He eyed her like she was something he wanted to claim. She narrowed her gaze. She had seen that look before. Lust. Windsor drifted closer, and her fingers twitched as she prepared to strike. Before she acted, Wilbur grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him aside. Wilbur leaned in and whispered to him. Their voices stayed low, far too low for a normal person to hear.But Caroline's body had been changed by spring water, and every word reached her with crystal clarity. Wilbur told Windsor that any woman bold enough to come here alone with a bag full of military cans had to be someone dangerous. Maybe even military herself. He warned his brother not to do anything stupid and to wait and see how things played out. Windsor agreed and swore he would not jump into trouble, yet he still muttered to Wilbur with a smug grin, “She's stunning. Way prettier than the ones I keep in my place. I can't stop staring.” Wilbur struck him sharply on the forehead. The sound cracked through the hall like a crisp slap, bouncing off the walls. “I've told you again and again,” Wilbur snapped. “Your life comes first. If you screw up this time, I'm not bailing you out of it.” The exchange ended as fast as it began. The brothers walked up beside her like nothing happened. Windsor kept his eyes off her now. Caroline felt a cold, silent laugh rise inside her. Stay smart while you can. She did not want conflict today. She hoped to test working with civilian groups and maybe set up future deals. But if conflict decided to throw hands with her, she would throw them back. A sharp idea formed in her mind. If it worked, her mission would unfold with ease, and she could create a long-term alliance. She felt drawn to the leader's ability and the power Wilbur carried. And if her plan succeeded, the military would owe her another favor. Before long, they reached a unit on the third floor. Wilbur stepped forward and knocked on the door. The door swung open, and a striking middle-aged man stood on the other side. Caroline felt one brutal thought slam through her mind. Wow. The man in front of her looked unreal. She had lived two lifetimes, and even then she had rarely seen a man this stunning. She had thought Wilbur was handsome, but his father—this polished, middle-aged man who looked past 40—carried a kind of beauty that stayed with people long after they turned away. Even with that face in front of her, Caroline only gave him a brief look. She nodded with calm respect and said, “Good morning. I'm Alger, a junior soldier under Colonel Francis Sutton of Shelter 42. I'm here on behalf of the military to discuss a trade with you.” Francis did come from Shelter 42.Alger was a name that could belong to anyone, which made it perfect. And she had just heard the brothers make it clear that they wanted no trouble with the military. Perfect timing. She knew the military inside and out. If she did not put on the badge of a soldier now, she would never get a cleaner chance. The moment she finished speaking, she heard furniture crash inside the room. A shrill voice cut straight through the doorway. “The military? Did the military finally send someone?!” A round, very short woman hurried into view next. Her tiny steps shook as she moved, and her body filled the entire doorway like a rolling wall of flesh. The woman looked shockingly unattractive. Heavy folds of fat sat across her face, and each of her features looked pushed into the wrong place. A giant wart clung to the corner of her mouth, and a clump of long hair dangled from it like a warning flag.