Then it happened. In one swift motion, he struck her across the cheek, the sound sharp against the morning stillness. For a heartbeat, it looked as though she might stagger, but instead she straightened, her shoulders settling back into alignment.
Colonel Cross inhaled sharply. “Admiral—”
“She disrespected me in front of my Marines,” Pierce snapped, his voice loud enough to carry.
Mara touched her cheek once with composure. “No,” she stated firmly, “you assaulted a federal official in front of two thousand witnesses.”
The weight of the word “official” hung in the air, shifting the dynamics.
Pierce, with a thin smile, attempted to undermine her further. “You’re a badge with a clipboard.”
Mara reached into her blazer, pulling out a black credential case. The insignia on it caught the attention of both Pierce and Cross, as it belonged to the highly secretive Office of Strategic Counterintelligence Oversight.
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