“Lieutenant Commander Vance,” he said, his voice a deep baritone that vibrated against the walls. He didn’t turn around. “Reporting as ordered.”
“Close the door, Elena.”
The use of her first name sent a spike of warning down her spine. This wasn’t a formal reprimand. This was personal.
She closed the door until it clicked shut. The sound was final.
“I’ve been reviewing the logs,” Sterling said, finally turning. His blue eyes, usually described as piercing in profiles, looked predatory today. He walked to his desk and picked up a thick manila folder. He dropped it onto the wood with a heavy thud.
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