Page 38 of Silver Elite

Once those recruits are gone, Ford addresses the ones remaining. “Silver Block only accepts the best. Recruits who don’t show promise during the Program will either return to their current blocks or be sent back to their wards.”

I perk up. Okay. There’s still a chance I can get cut. All I have to do is…not perform.

I can do that.

Chapter 9

After our impromptu quiz, we’re split into two cells. Red and Black. Lyddie and I are both assigned to the Black Cell, and I breathe in relief when I learn that Hadley will be the Red Cell leader.

Today will consist of classroom instruction only, which sounds mind-numbingly tedious. I barely made it through my school days in Hamlett. I can’t count the number of messages Uncle Jim received on his comm from my teachers, reporting me for not paying attention in class or disappearing from the schoolhouse altogether. I don’t do well chained to a desk. I need to breathe fresh air and have the freedom to go where I please.

Freedom doesn’t exist here, and if I don’t find a way to break out of this base, I’m liable to lose my sanity.

Ford calls for a break, and while the other recruits use the time to chat among themselves, I find a quiet spot against the wall and study the schedule on my source. This week is labeledSection 1and primarily involves weapons training, which intrigues me. Long range, short range, moving targets.

Damn it, and the other sections are equally intriguing.Interrogation Tactics. Intelligence Gathering. Knives. Hand-to-Hand Combat. Undercover Operations. Basics of Flight.

I hate the tickle of excitement I feel in my stomach. I’m not allowed to enjoy myself. And I’m certainly not allowed to be good at anything. My goal is to fail so they send me back to the wards. Back to the ranch. No matter how enticing some of these sections are, I can’t let myself excel at them.

I continue scrolling, noting the four days of rest that seem to be arbitrarily scheduled between two sections. They come directly after a class labeled RTI.

Although I have no intention of making friends, I’ve already been friendly to Lyddie, so I wander back to our workstation and lean against the edge of the desk.

“Do you know what RTI is?” I ask her. “It’s in Section 7.”

She lifts her head from her source. “Oh. Resistance to interrogation.”

My brow furrows. “Are we the ones resisting the interrogation?”

“I think so, but I’m not sure.” She sets down her tablet, taking my presence as a signal to socialize. “Are you from the Point?”

“No. Ward Z.”

“Whoa. I’ve aways wanted to go out west. I heard it’s nothing but open space.”

“It is. I miss it. Did you grow up in the Point?”

She nods, her fingers absently toying with the end of her braid. “My mom works for the Company. Biotech. And my dad is in Command Intelligence. Some people think that makes me a staple, but I’m not.”

She lowers her voice as her gaze darts toward a group of recruits congregated in the front row. A few glance her way, then turn back and whisper to one another. I hear someone laugh.

Two pink splotches rise in her cheeks. “I passed all the required assessments.”

The way her jaw tightened at the wordstaplesuggests it isn’t a complimentary label.

“What’s a staple?” I ask warily.

“The children of high-clearance parents. Staples are only accepted into the Program because of who their parents are, even if they don’t qualify. They’ve basically spent their entire lives knowing they’re going to end up in Silver Block. Maybe even Silver Elite.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a unit within Silver Block. Special forces. Elites have the highest security clearance, and they run the riskiest operations.”

“Like what?”

She giggles. “Do you know anything about this block?”

“No,” I admit.

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