"You don't accept it? Then suck it up and get the hell out of here!" Director Vaughn snapped, his voice like a whip crack.
Was this guy brain-dead? Couldn't even read the damn room?
You think I'm covering for them? I'm trying to save your dumb ass, you idiot!
You think you can mess with these people?
But of course, good intentions were always mistaken for favoritism.
Rourke's face darkened even more. In his mind, Vaughn's reaction only confirmed his suspicions—this group must have some secret connection with the director. Maybe even some shady deal going on behind the scenes.
His stubborn streak flared up. "Director Vaughn, as a leader of this compound, I expect you to uphold true fairness. Otherwise, how can you expect people to follow you? I'm asking the military to stay out of this. Let us settle it ourselves."
"Settle it?" Vaughn's face turned stormy. "The only thing you're gonna settle is your own damn funeral!"
