1 Prologue

The Commander strutted back and forth across the front of the classroom. It was a practised manoeuvre, one that had been ingrained into his blood after all the times he had done it in front of the mirror. If he did this right, he would get exactly what he needed.

All the young one's eyes were pinned on him, all afraid that if they looked away for the slightest of moments they would miss some vital sliver of advice. There were both girls and boys, short and tall, dark haired and blonde.

Children, all below thirteen. The age where their minds and bodies were still very malleable, still open to whatever they were told.

Except for one little girl in the corner who was immersed in her drawing book.

Now came the moment of truth, the time to see who really had a future here.

"What do you see when you look through your scope?" He asked gruffly.

Several hands flew up.

Except for one little girl in the corner.

He pointed to each hand, one by one, listening to what they said.

"Targets."

"Enemies."

"Victims."

"Clients."

The answers were almost endless. But none of them were what he was looking for. Only one child in the room hadn't given hers yet.

"What about you in the corner?" He asked. "What do you see when you look through your scope?" His voice held a tinge of hope hidden within a load of disappointment.

She mumbled it so softly he wasn't sure he'd heard it right. So he went closer to her, squatting so he was could catch it right.

"What was that?" He questioned.

"Prey."

The Commander nearly exploded with joy. This was it.

She was it.

"And that means you are the predator right?" The excitement in his voice was palpable.

She nodded, but still kept her attention on her drawing. The long dark hair on her head flowed down the side of her face and onto the paper, covering whatever it was she was drawing.

"I can make you the most feared predator in the whole world if you come with me." He whispered in the sweetest voice he could muster, only to her.

She shook her head.

"Not feared. I prefer cunning. Sneaky, silent."

She showed him what she was drawing.

It was a fox.