Nyx hadn't spent much time in the actual barracks, instead in the small office space she'd been allocated by Stryker to continue her work. She'd worked tirelessly, focusing on the new comers and sorting through their files and anything that was required for their work ( Read more... )

Regulation wear. God she hated it. It wasn't like she would have chosen anything different if she'd had a full closet. She wasn't a fashionista. But wearing the same-old same-old all day and night got old. The steel-toed combat boots were fine. The tank tops were fine. The camos though, drove her nuts, as did the jacket. She'd lost the jacket ( Read more... )

As the jeep pulled into the garage, Foxx climbed out of the back, grabbing her backpack as she did so; she liked to travel light, less to leave behind when she had to run. The trip hadn't been totally unfortunate, and the way the flustered MP skittered out of the jeep and away backed that up ( Read more... )