THEY ORDERED HIM TO PUT DOWN THE ROGUE WAR DOG. THEN HE NOTICED THE TATTOO BEHIND ITS EAR.

While the standoff was brewing in Kennel Bay Nine, the detention annex lay shrouded in near darkness.

First Lieutenant Sarah Chen sat at her desk in the outer processing office, her fingers hovering over her terminal. On her screen was an encrypted document she had pulled from the regional command archive using an emergency override key provided by Dr. Reyes.

It was the complete flight log for MEDEVAC unit Charlie-One-Seven, dated October 14, 2022.

Under the cargo manifest, written in faded field ink by a combat medic long since discharged:

“One litter patient: SSG Morales, A. Severe blast trauma, tourniquets applied bilateral lower extremities. One service canine: W-794 (Viper). Shrapnel wounds to chest, stable, refused separation from handler. Escorted on board by TF Valkyrie team lead.”

Chen sat back, her heart hammering against her ribs.

The paper trail was undeniable. Sterling and Vance hadn't just covered up a dog’s survival; they had committed fraud against the United States government to suppress the single living witness—and tracker—to a twelve-million-dollar war crimes theft.

The outer security door buzzed. Chen quickly minimized the terminal and stood up as Dr. Laura Reyes entered, carrying a set of civilian clothes and a pair of bolt cutters tucked into a heavy duffel bag.

"The MPs on the exterior gates are changing shifts in twenty minutes," Reyes said, her voice dropping to an urgent murmur. "Maddox is holding Vance off at the kennels, but he can't stop Sterling once the morning command staff arrives. Where is Morales?"

"Holding room three," Chen whispered. She pulled a brass magnetic keycard from her drawer. "If I unlock that door, I lose my commission, Laura."

"If you don't unlock that door, two combat veterans—one human, one animal—are going to be murdered by bureaucratic protocol," Reyes answered fiercely. "Look at what's on your screen, Sarah. Is that what you swore an oath to protect?"

Chen stared at the glowing monitor for three long seconds. Then she grabbed the keycard, turned, and marched down the short corridor to holding cell three.

The heavy door unlatched with a sharp click.

Adrian looked up from the metal bench, his eyes dark, his shoulders braced for another confrontation. When he saw Chen and Reyes standing there holding his aluminum crutches, his jaw tightened.

"We don't have much time, Staff Sergeant," Reyes said, handing him his crutches. "Owen is at the kennel. Sterling has already ordered the injection. If we don't get to Viper now, nobody will."

Adrian grabbed the crutches, thrusting his weight onto his good leg with a sudden, ferocious surge of energy. "Where's the truck?"

"Parked behind the maintenance bay," Chen said, tossing him the duffel bag. "Get moving. I’ll make sure the interior surveillance feeds loop for the next seven minutes."