"SHE JUST WIPED UP THEIR BEER SPILL. WHAT THEY DIDN'T KNOW? SHE WAS THE NAVY SEAL COMMANDER WHO WOULD DECIDE IF THEY LIVE OR DIE. The beer didn't just hit the table; it hit the wall behind her. It was an amber arc of liquid arrogance, splashing across the dark wood and soaking her untouched basket of fries. The lights inside Anchor Point Tavern were already dim, trying to hide the sins of a thousand shore leaves, but the laughter that followed was bright, careless, and loud enough to shatter the