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the slight female he was leading toward the barracks.  Remy pulled his eyes away.  He was done wasting his time on Mason’s sister.  It had already cost him too much.  He’d train her, he’d break her, he’d be rid of her, and that’d be it.
    Glancing over his shoulder he eyed Monroe, then Mason. “Anything else?”
    The look on Mason’s face let him know his previous nemesis wasn’t finished.
    Mason took a step forward.  “This should go without saying.”
    Remy turned to square up, showing with his posture that he wasn’t afraid of Mason before holding up his hand.  “Yeah.  I know.  You already said it.  Hurt her and I die.  Let her get hurt and I die.” He pointed at the door.  “Save it.”
    “Report back at week’s end,” Monroe commanded as he strode for the door.  “She’s got one week to prove she can make it, if not I’m moving her to another occupation.”
    Remy nodded grimly.  Oh, little Miss EnemyHunter was getting moved to another occupation alright, and he’d ensure it didn’t take a week for that to happen. 
    Monroe was half out the door when he turned. “Remy!  How was your mission in Great Falls?  You haven’t filed your report.”
    Tensing at the reminder of the woman he’d been trying to forget, Remy responded sarcastically.  “Fan-fucking-tastic.”  Truth was, he’d been unable to stop thinking about his beautiful lavender goddess.  When he had realized the woman had checked out of her room and left, Remy knew he could have tracked her, hunted her, but he wasn’t in the habit of chasing women who didn’t want to be chased.  It was a hard pill to swallow -- she was the first woman ever who’d apparently been completely immune to his charm.  “Report’s on its way.”  Then he slammed the door behind them.

Chapter 5
    After securing her issued attire and gear in her footlocker, Harlow sat on her hard cot, eyeing the barracks.   God, what have I gotten myself into?   The room was pristine.  Not a speck of dirt or lint on the tan wooden floors.  The walls were made from the same wood, which belied the corrugated metal on the outside of the structure.  When Leto had driven her out to the field and exited the vehicle to lead her to the grain silos, she wondered what in the hell was going on.  Days earlier she’d seen Sentries training on this site, but when she’d arrived today all she’d seen were fields of golden wheat and the silos.  Leto had led her into one of the silos through a door that was barely visible.  Cut into the structure and curved to match the profile, the door looked like someone had simply taken a welder and cut into the structure. 
    “This is the barracks,” Leto stated, as he pointed to a cot with an open foot locker near the foot.  “That’s yours.  Get settled.  Your Commander will be in to speak with you shortly.”  Then, without even a goodbye, he’d left. 
    Not wanting to get caught unprepared, Harlow hurried to secure her gear.  Her cot was second from the door in a line of six against one wall, but the one beside hers, nearest the door, was unmade like hers, which led her to believe no one slept there.  On the wall at the head of her cot was a shelf with a rod beneath it.  Eyeing the other sentries’ arrangements, she hung her dress uniform from the rod.  Pulled sheets off the shelf she quickly made her bunk, then tucked her reaming gear and rucksack into her footlocker before closing it up and sitting on the lid to wait. 
    After a few minutes, when no Commander showed, she stood and began looking around the barracks.  At the far end of the room was a doorway.  Upon inspection she discovered it led to the latrine.  Two bathroom stalls, with doors—thank God—were against one wall.  Against the opposite were a row of six ridiculously small stalls covered by plain beige curtains.  She peeled one back and saw a bench attached to the stall wall and another curtain.  Stepping into the stall, she