Sarah had demanded that.
"If I get there because of your name, I'll never know if I belonged."
William nodded.
"Good."
That was all.
She passed selection without him.
Not because she was the strongest.
She wasn't.
Not because she was the fastest.
She wasn't that either.
She passed because she refused to quit, solved problems under exhaustion, stayed calm when stronger candidates panicked, and recovered from mistakes faster than almost anyone in her class.
The cadre respected her.
Some candidates didn't.
Sarah learned early that she could spend her whole career demanding everyone believe she deserved to be there.
Or she could work.
She chose work.
Now, standing inside the crowded Raven Rock gymnasium, she watched Bennett raise his gloves.
"You sure about this?"
Sarah looked at him.
"No."
He laughed.
"Finally honest."
Sarah adjusted her stance.
"I meant I'm not sure you understand what you're asking."
The crowd shifted.
Bennett smiled.
"There she is."
Sarah said nothing.
Bennett looked toward his squad.
"She finally talks."
Then he came forward.
Not full speed.
The first attack was insulting more than dangerous.
A probing jab.
Something designed to touch her forehead and make the crowd laugh.
Sarah moved her head less than two inches.
The glove missed.
Bennett threw another.
Missed again.
He smiled.
"Okay."
He stepped closer.
The third jab came faster.
Sarah parried it lightly.
Bennett followed with a cross.
Sarah stepped outside.
His glove passed her shoulder.
No counter.
Bennett reset.
The crowd had stopped laughing.
He threw a combination.
Jab.
Cross.
Left hook.
Sarah disappeared between the rhythms.
Not literally.
But that was how it looked.
She never moved far.
A half step.
A slight pivot.
A change in level.
Bennett's punches kept arriving where she had been.
He backed away.
Sarah remained in place.
One of Bennett's men whispered, "She's reading him."
Another answered, "No."
"What?"
"She's reading his feet."
Avery heard.
The soldier was right.
William Mitchell taught eyes last.
Feet first.
Hips second.
Shoulders third.
Hands were often lies.
Weight rarely was.
Bennett attacked harder.
Sarah continued refusing to strike.
That started to embarrass him.
He wasn't losing a fight.
He was failing to begin one.
"Hit me," Bennett said.
Sarah didn't.
"Come on."
Silence.
Bennett stepped inside.
"Hit me."
Sarah said, "No."
He shoved her.
Not hard.
Enough.
The room reacted.
Sarah's feet shifted.
She recovered.
Bennett lifted his hands.
"What?"
Colonel Hayes stepped forward.
"Sergeant."
Sarah raised one palm.
"Ma'am."
Hayes stopped.
Sarah looked at Bennett.
"That's one."
He smiled.
"One what?"
"One warning."
Bennett laughed.
"Or?"
Sarah's face remained neutral.