Chapter 5 - THE OBSERVER'S REALIZATION
Briggs groaned, rolling onto his side as he frantically tried to push his heavy torso off the mat. Sweat poured down his face, his chest heaving as his brain struggled to comprehend how he had been thrown so effortlessly.
Avery stood three feet away, watching him with the exact same calm, unruffled composure she had displayed before the whistle sounded. Her ponytail was neat, her posture relaxed, her hands hovering at her sides. She made no movement to follow up with strikes or ground control, simply allowing him the space to realize his position.
For the first time since stepping onto the floor, Sergeant Briggs looked up at her with genuine, pale uncertainty. The arrogant smile was gone, replaced by a creeping wave of fear.
In the front row of the observation deck, the fifty-five-year-old Pentagon Observer—wearing a dark formal uniform adorned with high-level intelligence pins—suddenly pushed himself out of his leather chair.
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His eyes were wide, fixed entirely on the subtle foot placement and wrist rotation Avery had used during the throw. He stepped past the guard rail toward the edge of the blue mat, his face pale with shock.
Commander Hayes immediately noticed the high-ranking official's dramatic reaction. Hayes turned his head, watching the Pentagon Observer with sharp, calculating eyes.
