Chapter 3
Briggs had spent the morning humiliating Riley.
During warm-ups, he made her run with a weighted pack twice the size assigned to anyone else.
When she finished, he told the crowd she was slow.
During grappling drills, he paired her against men twice her weight and laughed when they slammed her into the dirt.
When she adjusted her stance, he called it panic.
When she stayed silent, he called it weakness.
When she took the hits, he called it proof she was not ready.
But Riley never complained.
Not once.
She just watched.
Listened.
Counted.
Every illegal strike.
Every insult.
Every time Briggs looked at the cameras and performed cruelty like leadership.
He thought she was trapped.
He thought she was some junior soldier sent to make the demonstration look inclusive.
He thought command had handed him an easy target.
He had no idea she had been sent there for him.
Briggs stepped in again and threw a hard front kick.
Aiming high this time.
Too high for training.
Too fast for a demonstration.
Riley waited until the last second.
Then she moved.
Her left hand snapped down.
Her right arm locked.
She caught his leg before the kick fully landed.
The entire ring froze.
Briggs’s eyes widened.
For the first time that day, he looked surprised.
Riley held his boot in both hands like it weighed nothing.
Then she turned her head slowly.
She looked past Briggs.
Past the silent soldiers.
Past the officers in the front row.
Straight into the nearest camera.
Her voice dropped low.
But the microphone caught every word.
May you like
“Make sure you got that.”
Read Part 4 to find out why the cameras became Briggs’s biggest mistake.
