The Survivors (2)

Why would a division meant to protect and rescue survivors suddenly turn against them? The very thought made Lucian's blood boil.

He clenched his jaw, his voice laced with bitterness. "They never changed," he muttered. "Not then, not now."

Medeia asked calmly, "So you're saying ... you chose to disobey?"

Ethan met her gaze. "Yes," he admitted. "I refused to kill innocent people. And for that, my squad and I were marked as traitors."

For the first time since the conversation started, Medeia's smirk faded. "Well," she murmured, tapping a finger against her chin, "that does complicate things, doesn't it?"

"How many of them?" Medeia asked, cutting straight to the most crucial question.

"There are ten of us in total."

Ten.

Medeia's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. Perfect. They would be her key to completing this mission.

"Where are they?"

"An old town, about ten clicks from here."