Last week Cavanough received such a warm welcome that this week I decided to skip ahead just a little tiny bit to the first actual interaction with him:
"It's come to my attention that the Lieutenant was captured and drained of all vital fluid," he paused, as though waiting for one of us to confirm or deny. Neither of us spoke and he carried on.
"Too many of his failures have compromised the integrity of our project. Remove his virus and send his remains to his next of kin."
I blanched, my fury clawing to escape like the bile rising in my esophagus. "You son of a bitch," I sprang to my feet and stepped towards him. The General was up and intercepting me before my hands could wrap around Cavanough's pencil thin neck and squeeze the life out of his mocking face.
"Stand down Casey," he whispered, tightening his grip on my shoulder.
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