“Supposedly, if we're keeping with the Army's answers, the cage fighter.” Hayes shifted a bit in his seat, leaning forward to prod the food on his plate awkwardly. “Haven't you ever heard the story about us marines?”
He'd heard it often enough from older army officers he'd come into contact with, and the closer he got to Quantico, the more he heard of it. “On the first day of training, they take us all away. And a few days later we all come back with bandages wrapped around our heads to cover the place where they took our brains out.”
He wiped his mouth with the corner of a napkin and looked up at her, expression businesslike once again. (Not that there was much of a shift between his business face and his joke face. The corners of his mouth just turned up a bit more. Not even a proper smile.) “Don't you worry, Michael. We'll keep you and the guests safe and sound.”