Free Battlefield by Heather C. Myers

was.

Chapter 12
     
    This was just more proof that Devyn was more human than not; she had a strong sense of intuition, and right now, something felt very wrong.  Given the fact that she didn’t know anyone besides the members of her Unit as well as the Superiors in some form or another, there was no way she could attract a visitor.  What would anyone want with her anyways?  Surely it wasn’t a member of the outside world not affiliated with the International Genealogy Laboratory.  Devyn shook her head, unwilling to think more on it.  Whatever her guess would be, she had a feeling it would be wrong either way, and instead, focused more on how to prepare herself for whomever this person was.
     
    The Whitecoat led her to an office-like room, a room Devyn had never been to before in all her twenty-three years of being alive.  Sarah was standing next to a mahogany desk, and there was a man – a man unfamiliar to her but obviously important in some way – sitting behind the desk and looking at Devyn with a look Devyn had never seen before.  It was rather beastly, hungry, but Devyn had no idea just what the man was hungry for.  Was this her visitor?  She didn’t know him…
     
    With a curt nod, the Whitecoat disappeared out the door and Sarah walked around the desk to lock it, ensuring there would be no disturbances.  When she turned, her eyes skimmed over Devyn’s back, taking in her attire, hiding a smirk.  Devyn was in the usual clothes – a grey wife beater and black, white, and grey camouflaged cargo pants with black combat boots on her feet.  Her hair was down when it really should have been pulled up, but one glance at the man behind the desk showed that he didn’t exactly mind.  Sarah fixated her eyes on the two guards that came to stand on either side of the door in case Devyn tried anything, attempted an escape, or needed to be restrained.  Devyn didn’t even see them.
     
    “113089,” Sarah said in her usual crisp voice, walking back around Devyn so that she was adjacent to the desk once again.  Though the man had yet to speak, his eyes were fixed solely on Devyn to the point where she was becoming uncomfortable under the intensity of it.  “I’m sure you’re wondering just why it is you’re here.”  She gestured gracefully at the man.  “This is Stewart Hall, the Director and the reason why you’re here, alive.”  Devyn tried to mask her surprise, and she succeeded only slightly.  “He is the mastermind behind this particular reality show.”  Sarah took a step back in order to give Stewart Hall, the Director, the floor.  “He wanted to see you personally,” she added.
     
    Devyn immediately grew suspicious.  Why would the Director want to see her when there were plenty of other people he could meet?  Maybe he was getting an idea of who everyone in a particular Unit was.  Maybe Rachel would be next.  Or maybe that was what Devyn wanted to think.
     
    The Director stood up and Devyn’s trained eyes immediately took him in.  He was tall, probably an inch or two past six foot.  His black hair was pushed out of his face, every lock perfectly in place.  He had sharp, blue eyes and a square-shape, clean shaven face.  His lips were curled into a semi-smile, revealing straight white teeth and dimple in his left cheek.  Devyn wasn’t familiar with brand name clothing, but the pinstriped suit he was wearing looked expensive, and despite the fact that he was probably in his forties, he seemed to be in good shape.
     
    “Your picture does not do you justice, 113089,” he said in a smooth, low voice as he walked around his desk in order to stand in front of it and closer to Devyn.
     
    Devyn narrowed her eyes suspiciously, her body tensing, preparing for something she didn’t understand just yet.  “My name is Devyn,” she told him, her tone curt, absolutely hating being addressed by a series of numbers.
     
    “No,” Stewart said, shaking his head.  Even then, not a