He closed the file and set it aside. “Is there anything else?”

“Regarding Shephard?”

“Regarding any of my men.”

Director Martin was tall, muscular, and wore his hair in a Marine regulation high and tight, making him appear more military-esque than the other Marines, many of which wore their hair in civilian-style haircuts. His voice was clear, concise, and thundered from his lungs, even when he spoke quietly.

Intensity shot from his eyes like lasers, pinning the recipient of his glare in place as he barked out his commands.

I found him terrifying as hell.

“No, Sir,” I said. “That’s all I have.”

“I’m surprised this is the first I’ve heard of this,” he complained.

“As I stated earlier, this is not the first time I’ve mentioned it.”

“My complaint is not with you, Doctor Rhoades. I’ll take up my concerns with Wallace. My only request of you is this: in the future, I’ll ask that you come directly to me when one of my men has become a liability.”

“I will, Sir.”

He tapped the tip of his index finger against the file. “I’ll need your files on Shephard.”

Martin was respectful and polite, but when he spoke, there was no such thing as a request. Intentional or not, it seemed everything with him was a demand.

I gestured toward the file. “Beyond a copy of my report?”

“I’ll need his files,” he responded. “Anything—and everything—you have on him. After delivering said files, your office should—strike that—will be free of all things related to Sergeant Shephard.”

I wasn’t finished expressing my beliefs of how dangerous Shephard was to society, the program, or his coworkers, me included. I feared anything short of placing him in an institution would put the public—and me—at risk.

A sigh escaped me. “I fear there may be repercussion regarding the content of this report. From Shephard, that is.”

“There will be no repercussion. This conversation never happened. Your report does not exist.” He lowered his chin slightly. “Are we clear, Doctor?”

I swallowed heavily. “Crystal, Sir.”

“Is there something else you wish to say?” he asked.

My face must have been saying what I was not. “I expressed my concerns. I suppose I have nothing else.”

“Your candor in this matter is appreciated,” he said. “I’ll need those files before you depart this evening, Doctor Rhoades.”

“I’ll have them to you post haste.”

A man like Shephard needed something like New Dawn to provide him with the ability to satisfy his desire to kill. In the program’s absence, he’d need to go elsewhere to satisfy his urge. Allowing him to roam the earth aimlessly would be a grave mistake. Sadly, the only way to end his thirst for killing would be to terminate his existence.

I mentally shrugged it off. Shephard sealed his fate when he acted in a manner that put the security of the program in jeopardy. His future was out of my control.

Contrary to Director Martin’s insistence, but in what I believed was in my best interest, I made a photocopy of Shephard’s paperwork and filed everything in an unmarked folder at the rear of my personnel files.

I returned to Director Martin’s office with the original files and handed them to him. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“Shephard?” he asked. “Couldn’t accurately respond to that, Ma’am. The man in charge of this operation will make that call.”

“Let’s hope the ‘man in charge’ has the guts to do what’s necessary to secure the anonymity of this program,” I said.

“A-fucking-men to that, Ma’am.”