Chapter 3
That night, nobody slept.
The barracks stayed dark, but whispers moved from bunk to bunk.
Whitmore had not returned.
Neither had Private Vance.
The base gates remained locked.
Our phones had been collected.
Even the drill sergeants looked nervous.
At 0200, alarms screamed.
Every recruit shot upright.
Red lights flashed outside the windows.
Sergeant Malloy burst in.
“Dress now! Boots on! Move!”
We scrambled.
No one asked questions.
Outside, floodlights cut through the darkness.
MPs ran toward the motor pool.
A helicopter thudded somewhere beyond the tree line.
Ellis grabbed my sleeve.
“This is because of her.”
I did not answer.
Because I knew he was right.
We were lined up outside the barracks when Commander Rourke appeared.
His uniform looked thrown on.
His scar stood white against his face.
“Listen carefully,” he said. “No one leaves this area. No one speaks unless spoken to. If you see Cadet Whitmore, you alert the nearest armed personnel and do not approach him.”
A murmur broke through the formation.
Rourke roared, “Quiet!”
My stomach dropped.
Whitmore had escaped.
Rourke confirmed it a second later.
“Cadet Whitmore is no longer in custody.”
Ellis whispered, “His father got him out.”
Rourke heard.
His eyes snapped toward us.
“No. Someone inside this base did.”
That silence felt worse.
A traitor.
Here.
One of ours.
We stood under floodlights for almost an hour while MPs searched the buildings.
Then I saw Private Vance.
She came out of headquarters in black tactical gear that did not belong to basic training.
No rank visible.
No name tape.
The tattoo at her neck was covered again.
The woman in the dark suit walked beside her.
Rourke met them near the command jeep.
I was too far to hear everything, but I caught pieces.
“External breach.”
“Whitmore compound.”
“Harland compromised.”
Then Vance turned and looked directly at me.
My spine went stiff.
She said something to Rourke.
He shook his head.
She said it again.
This time, sharper.
Rourke looked furious.
Then he pointed at me.
“Recruit Hale!”
I stepped forward.
“Yes, sir!”
“Get in the jeep.”
My heart slammed.
Ellis whispered, “What did you do?”
I had no answer.
I climbed into the back of the jeep with Vance and the woman in the suit.
Rourke drove.
No one spoke until we cleared the barracks.
Then Vance looked at me.
“You remembered Karsik.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did Whitmore mention any names with it?”
I searched my memory.
The barracks.
Whitmore laughing.
His expensive watch glinting.
“He said Harland was nervous about Karsik.”
Rourke cursed under his breath.
The woman in the suit leaned closer.
“Exact words.”
I closed my eyes.
“He said, ‘Harland sweats every time Karsik comes up. Dad says guilty men always sweat before they sell.’”
The jeep swerved slightly.
Rourke regained control.
Vance’s face turned hard.
“Vincent is moving files tonight.”
The woman nodded.
“We think so.”
“Then Julian was extracted to warn him.”
I stared at her.
“Ma’am, who are you?”
Rourke barked, “Recruit—”
Vance stopped him.
“I was Mara Vance in this yard,” she said. “Before that, I was Major Mara Vance, Special Operations Command. Before that, I was the only survivor of Operation Broken Spear.”
Broken Spear.
The tattoo.
The shattered mark.
My mouth went dry.
“What happened in Karsik?”
Vance looked out into the dark.
“Thirty-two soldiers died because faulty armor was approved, shipped, and hidden by men who made money from their deaths.”
Rourke’s hands tightened on the wheel.
“Her unit.”
Vance’s voice stayed flat.
“My team burned in vehicles that were supposed to withstand the blast. The armor failed in under four seconds.”
I felt sick.
“And Whitmore’s father?”
“Built it,” she said.
The jeep stopped outside an old communications building.
Rourke killed the lights.
Vance checked her weapon.
“You are here because you heard what Whitmore said, and because he saw you taken to headquarters. If Vincent Whitmore is cleaning witnesses, you are already on his list.”
I could not breathe for a second.
“I’m just a recruit.”
Vance looked at me.
“So were most of the dead.”
The words hit hard.
Then gunfire cracked from the far side of the base.
Rourke drew his pistol.
Vance opened the jeep door.
“Stay behind me.”
But before she moved, headlights burst from the road ahead.
A black SUV came straight toward us.
May you like
Rourke shouted, “Down!”
The windshield exploded.
