Chapter 3
Emma stepped forward at last, rifle safed and slung, her expression still that same unreadable calm she'd carried through all five shots. "Master Chief Cole," she said, "for the record, I want to be clear this wasn't a trap I was hoping you'd fall into. I was hoping you wouldn't." She glanced at the row of trainees behind him, young men who had spent the last ten minutes learning exactly what kind of instructor they'd been assigned to. "These candidates are six weeks from BUD/S. They watch how you treat unknowns on this range, and they'll carry that lesson into how they treat unknowns on an actual objective. You just taught nineteen future operators that confidence is something to mock instead of something to verify first." She let that land before continuing, gentler now, but no less exact. "That's the part of today's report that concerns me more than the four command markers."
Ryan looked at Daniel, searching for an exit that wasn't there. "Sir, I want to be clear, I run this range exactly the way I was trained to run it—"
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"I know," Daniel said. "That's actually the problem, and it's not entirely yours to fix alone. This assessment isn't just about you, Ryan. It's about a range culture that's been operating on assumption instead of verification for longer than eight months. Lieutenant Commander Carter's report is going to reflect the full picture, not just today." He glanced at Emma, who gave a small, professional nod. "But I'll tell you this much for free. The trainees who watched you fold when the truth came out learned something today that no amount of range time was going to teach them otherwise. Watch who earns your respect before you decide who deserves it. That lesson just cost you nothing but pride, Master Chief. It could have cost this program a lot more."
Ryan straightened, some old discipline reasserting itself under the weight of thirty years of rank standing in front of him. "Understood, sir."
