Chapter 3
Private Carter tried to sit up.
Vance put one boot near his hand.
Not on it.
Near it.
A warning dressed as accident.
“Stay down,” he said.
Carter froze.
Medics rushed in, but they slowed when they saw Colonel Vance.
That was power.
Even mercy asked permission.
I moved before I could stop myself.
“Let the medics through.”
Colonel Vance turned his head.
He looked almost amused.
“You again.”
Brock smiled.
“She has opinions, Dad.”
Dad.
He said it openly.
In uniform.
In front of bleeding soldiers.
Like the whole base already belonged to their last name.
Colonel Vance stepped toward me.
“Specialist Lee, is it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem to find trouble quickly.”
“I seem to find injured soldiers quickly.”
His eyes sharpened.
A few people nearby inhaled.
Brock’s smile vanished.
The colonel lowered his voice.
“You are new, so I will educate you once. On this installation, accusations follow channels.”
“Then maybe the channels are clogged.”
The silence after that sentence was dangerous.
Ruiz appeared at my side.
“Sir, medics need access.”
Colonel Vance looked at her.
“You too, Ruiz?”
Her jaw tightened.
“I’m asking for medical care for a private.”
He held her stare.
Then stepped aside.
The medics lifted Carter.
As they carried him past me, his fingers brushed mine.
He slipped something into my palm.
A folded strip of paper.
I closed my hand around it.
Brock saw.
His face changed.
I walked away before he could react.
Inside the nearest supply room, I unfolded the paper.
Three words.
Adam was recorded.
My throat closed.
Ruiz came in behind me and shut the door.
“What is that?”
I handed it to her.
Her face crumpled.
“Where is the recording?”
“I was hoping you knew.”
She pressed both hands to her mouth.
“I only heard rumors.”
“What rumors?”
“That Adam had a body camera.”
“He was not on duty.”
“No,” she said. “But he had started wearing one after Brock threatened him.”
My heart slammed.
“Where would it be?”
Ruiz looked sick.
“Evidence locker.”
“Then why wasn’t it in the report?”
She laughed bitterly.
“Because Colonel Vance controlled the report.”
I contacted Shaw again.
Possible suppressed video in evidence locker. Need warrant support.
Her reply came fast.
Not yet. Need chain link.
I wanted to throw the phone.
Need chain link.
My brother was dead.
Carter was bleeding.
Every hallway smelled like fear.
How much more chain did they need?
Ruiz touched my arm.
“There is another way.”
“What way?”
“Brock keeps trophies.”
I stared.
“What kind?”
“Phones. Photos. Challenge coins. Things he takes from soldiers he breaks.”
“Where?”
“Old gym office.”
The old gym sat behind the motor pool, officially closed for renovation.
Unofficially, soldiers avoided it after dark.
That night, I went there with Ruiz.
No lights.
No backup.
Bad plan.
Necessary plan.
We entered through a side door with a key Ruiz had kept for years.
The air inside was stale.
Dust covered the windows.
A single office sat behind the weight room.
Locked.
Ruiz opened it.
Inside were filing boxes, liquor bottles, and a wall covered with photos.
Soldiers.
Dozens of them.
Some laughing before they knew better.
Some bruised.
Some humiliated.
My brother was in the center.
Adam.
Smiling in uniform, one arm around me in an old family photo.
My knees weakened.
“That was from my mother’s house,” I whispered.
Ruiz looked at me.
“You’re his sister.”
I did not answer.
I could not.
I pulled the photo from the wall.
Behind it was a flash drive taped to the wood.
My fingers shook.
Ruiz whispered, “Mara.”
I looked up sharply.
She knew my name.
“My brother told me about you,” she said. “He said if anything happened, his sister would never stop.”
I closed my eyes.
Then footsteps sounded outside.
Ruiz killed the flashlight.
The office door creaked.
Brock’s voice came from the weight room.
“I know you’re in here, Lee.”
Ruiz grabbed my sleeve.
No exit.
No time.
May you like
Brock laughed softly.
“Come out, princess. I found your real file.”
