The sealed chamber smelled faintly of oil and tired coffee.
Every eye fixed on him, waiting for him to speak, waiting for him to make his decision. The Supreme Commandant did not wait for sentiment.
As soon as he made his decision, he folded his hands on the table and spoke bluntly. "We strike".
A dozen heads around the table turned as if pulled by the word.
Holt felt the room tilt on that hinge. There was no debate this time; they accepted the Commandant's decision, but the only argument was how.
The Supreme Commandant continued. "We will not sit and wait for the C Rank to come to us".
"Holt," he called as he inclined his head to look at the lead scout of the quarantine zone. "You recommended a strike, you will lead a strike team, and I will go with you."
It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order.
"But you asked an important question, how do we pick the twenty Awakened that will be on the strike force?"
