Page 43 of Savage Devotion
Familiar weight. Proven effectiveness.
Tools of my trade.
Extensions of my will.
"Close quarters specialty. If I'm using these, stealth has already failed."
Truth. Last resort.
Preference for avoiding combat during reconnaissance.
Violence as final option when intelligence gathering goes wrong.
She examines my equipment selection with professional interest, noting choices that reveal tactical priorities and operational methods. Her questions probe for understanding rather than criticism.
Military mind. Professional curiosity.
Respect for competence.
Growing understanding of my methods.
"Communication protocol?"
"Daily signal fires if possible. Smoke patterns for basic status reports." I point toward the ridge overlooking our camp. "Watch the eastern peaks. Three columns means safe. Two means danger. One means retreat immediately."
Standard procedure. Practical necessity.
Also personal concern for her safety.
Warning system to protect her if operation goes badly.
"And if no signals?"
Realistic question. Uncomfortable possibility.
Missions go wrong. People die.
Personal mortality versus professional obligation.
"Assume the worst. Secure this position and await reinforcements."
Practical instruction.
Also personal fear.
What happens to her if I don't return?
What happens to me if she's gone when I get back?
The thought creates an unexpected tightness in my heart with a concern laced with tactical considerations. When did her safety become personal priority rather than professional courtesy?
When I started caring about her opinion.
When her challenges became welcome rather than annoying.
When her presence became comfort rather than complication.
Dangerous development.
