First Comes Duty (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 2) by PJ Strebor Page B

to the anti-ageing treatment the Family had provided to Pruessen, he would live to see the day when the Family would once again venture from their home to take their rightful place in control of the Tunguska Fault. 
    However, today’s task fell far short of such a grandiose future. The desktop comm buzzed.
    “Yes.”
    “Commodore, your fifteen-thirty appointment is here.”
    “Send him in.”
    When the young man stepped through the hatch, Draeger could see little difference in his outward appearance. The eyes of a born exponent of mayhem were encased in a deceptively boyish face. A robust young man of average build and height, who any Pruessen mother would be well pleased to introduce to their daughters. His record spoke of a totally different character.
    The young associate had done remarkably well over the years, and Oscar could see within him the seeds of greatness. If he could learn to control his passion and rage, he might prove to be one of the most outstanding prospects to come along in many a year. In some ways, he reminded Draeger of a younger version of himself. Still, a lingering doubt remained. Within this lethal young man’s mind dwelt a dark place which had resisted years of purging and years more of brutal training. Even a black-level advocate of his caliber could not enter his dark place. That created uncertainty, and uncertainty bred doubt. So for the time being, Draeger would continue to use him as he did all other associates and advocates within his dominion.
    The man snapped to attention before the wide, polished desk.
    “Sir, Lieutenant Saxon reporting to the commodore as ordered.”
    “No need for that, Orson,” Draeger said. “No one in their right mind would attempt to bug this office. And if they tried, I would know and they would be dead.”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    There it was, lingering under the surface. The rage and resentment, the questioning mind which should have been purged from him years ago. Yes, he could be doing my job in a few decades’ time. If I don’t have to destroy him.
    “Your last mission went well, I take it?”
    “Smuggling kesium into Francorum space is hardly a mission, Sir. But yes, the operation went without a hitch.”
    “That’s always good to hear,” Draeger said, with an easy smile. Standing, he extended his hand. “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”
    Again, the associate’s minuscule delay. Draeger could sense him steeling himself to resist. Their hands embraced and Orson tried to fight the invasion. Draeger slapped aside his pathetic attempts to keep him out. Orson fought him until the veins protruded from his temples and sweat dotted his face. Draeger had all he needed from him for the moment and broke contact. When their hands unclasped, Orson gasped in relief.
    “You should know better than to try and keep anything from me, Orson. Haven’t I taught you anything over the last year?” Draeger resumed his seat and waved the younger man to a chair. 
    Orson slumped into the seat, wiped sweat from his face and cleared his throat. “I have learned much under your guidance, Sir, for which I am obliged.”
    “Still, you feel within yourself a greater purpose, do you not?”
    “I would always wish to do more than I have for the Family, Sir.”
    “Blind naked ambition is what it’s called.”
    “My only ambition is to serve.”
    “Still, you believe that your recent activities are beneath you, do you not?”
    “Commander Bannister believed I had greater potential.”
    “Bannister is dead, and you know how.”
    There again, the rage bubbling just under the surface.
    “I carried out my mission, Sir. A mission that should never have been attempted with the piss-poor resources we were allocated, Sir. A mission I accomplished, Sir, on the promise of advocacy status, upon its completion. Then to find myself sent back to smuggling drugs into the south? So yes, Sir, I do believe I could be of greater service to those we serve — if, Sir, I was given the