Chapter 9 - THE UNSEEN BATTLE
Caldwell looked at Master Sergeant Monroe, then down at the M4 resting quietly on the foam pad of Lane Four.
"If I authorize this..." Caldwell murmured, his voice tight with anxiety, "and something goes wrong... I'm handing a rogue operative classified clearance on my own watch."
"With all due respect, Colonel," Monroe chimed in, her tone sharp and realistic, "if she wanted to take this base down, she could have done it before you finished your morning coffee. She just saved your entire command structure from an intelligence breach."
Caldwell closed his eyes, taking a deep, heavy breath of the dusty desert air. He opened them, looking at Claire with a newfound, profound respect.
"Two hours, Morgan," Caldwell declared softly. "No official logs. No radio traffic. If anyone asks, you were assigned to an off-site supply run to Fort Carson."
"Understood, sir," Claire replied crisply.
She reached out, grabbed the M4 service rifle from the bench, and disassembled it in four lightning-fast, mechanical movements—separating the upper receiver, lower receiver, bolt carrier group, and charging handle in under three seconds. She laid the clean components neatly on the green pad, turned on her heel, and began walking away from the firing line toward the parking area.
The soldiers of Combat Group Charlie parted like the Red Sea as she walked past them, every man standing in stunned, absolute silence, watching the quiet supply clerk with wide, terrified eyes.
Briggs watched her go, his throat dry, his hands still trembling as he leaned over the wooden railing to stare downlane one last time.
"Master Sergeant..." Briggs whispered, looking at Monroe. "Is she... is she coming back?"
May you like
Monroe stood beside the bench, watching Claire's compact, disciplined frame disappear into the shimmering heat waves near the supply depot.
"Pray she comes back, Sergeant," Monroe said coldly. "Because if she doesn't... whatever she was hiding from is coming here next."
