Orpheus: Homecoming (The Orpheus Trilogy Book 2) by Dan DeWitt

collar with two hands and launched him backward. They squared off, ready to go.
    Fish, always ready for a fight, was similarly engaged with Tino.
    Holt got to his feet, and had every intention of going after Ralston again, when Tim put two hands in his chest and moved him backward roughly. "Not here, boss!"
    That snapped Holt back, and when he saw what was happening around him, he bellowed, “That's enough!” The fighting stopped, and a heavy silence hung.
    Holt just glared at Colonel Ralston as the man got to his feet. As woozy as the Colonel was, the smile on his face couldn't be missed. Security arrived, the police were called, and Holt knew he had stepped in it.
    Trager spun around in a circle, trying to figure out what to say next. His lips moved, in search of the perfect words, but he couldn't seem to come up with anything more appropriate than, “Motherfuck!”
     

Slammer
     
     
    Cameron Holt wasn't a young man anymore, so he figured he was running out of firsts to experience.
    He could cross the first night in jail from the list.
    After the police had showed up to the gala, Holt figured he had caused enough trouble for the night and offered himself up for arrest. The officer who put the cuffs on him seemed almost ashamed to do so. Holt had only been in handcuffs one other time, during his Air Force training, and he'd hated the feeling of helplessness. It was much worse when they were on for real.
    He was the only occupant of the holding cells. After he finally calmed himself down, he managed to get a few hours of actual sleep.
    His eyes fluttered and opened in response to the approaching footsteps. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and watched Trager step to the cell door.
    “For someone who supposedly hates the limelight, you sure can put yourself right back in it.”
    Holt twisted from one side to the other, cracking his back. “Not the time, Marty.”
    Trager scoffed at him. “That's where you're wrong. You're in there, I'm out here, and I asked your wife to wait in the car. It's definitely the goddamn time.”
    “Just get to it, then.”
    “You are a moron.”
    Holt attempted to form a retort, but nothing came. “I can't really argue that one.”
    “Don't insult either one of us. What did Ralston say to you to get you to tweak? Was it Jackie or Ethan?”
    “How did you know?”
    “I knew he said something to that effect the instant I saw you drop him.”
    “Do tell.”
    “Look, I don't know what you were like before the thing on the island, but it's pretty clear that you have a weak spot now, and it's your family.”
    “So what? I should apologize for that?”
    “So what? How about this for a so what? Ralston fucking knew it, too! And you gave him exactly what he wanted. More, actually.”
    Holt didn't like the sound of that.
    “I spent all night negotiating with that douche. He'll drop the charges, but you have to agree to lead his little island excursion.”
    “Or?”
    “You kicked the shit out a respected member of the military, who just happens to be a probable Senatorial favorite. You threatened to kill him in front of a hundred witnesses. If he pushes it and pulls strings, Orpheus or not, you'll do time. It's your choice whether or not you do it in prison or on the island. At lone of them is familiar territory.”
    Holt nodded, unable to see a way out.
    “I got a few concessions, because I figured you'd dig in otherwise. You call the shots on the island. You determine manpower, equipment, strategy. Budget is so high that it might as well not exist. But you do report to him.”
    “He'll be there?”
    “Off and on, I assume. He's got business to take care of back home, and I'm not sure he wants to actually be that close to the zombies, either.”
    Holt sighed and approached the bars. “Is this the best deal I'm going to get?”
    Trager smiled his shark's smile. “Hey, I got you a hell of a deal. You knocked out one of his teeth. He's pretty sure that he swallowed it, so he'll be thinking of