Chapter 13 - REX TAKES FOUR STEPS
Three weeks after we arrived at Halstead, Rex took four steps without the cart.
Not good steps.
Not pretty.
Four.
The rehab technician supported his hips with a sling.
Rex planted both rear paws.
Shook.
Moved.
One.
Two.
Stopped.
Then two more.
I cried harder than I had when they put a steel rod in my leg.
Rex looked embarrassed for me.
Emily was there.
She had finished her shift but stopped by anyway.
“He's showing you up.”
I looked at my crutches.
“He always has.”
My own recovery was slower than I wanted.
Weight-bearing progression.
Physical therapy.
No heroic return to running six weeks later.
The Army had started a medical retention review.
Nobody knew whether I would return to full handler duty.
That mattered to Rex's eventual placement.
If he retired, I needed to prove I could physically care for him or had a family plan that could.
My sister agreed to help.
Not a miracle.
A schedule.
Then Emily sat beside me.
“Can I ask something?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you shove Mason in the hallway?”
I almost laughed.
“He grabbed Rex.”
“He grabbed the leash.”
“Same difference.”
“No.”
She was right.
I thought.
“Because I came in expecting a fight.”
“Why?”
“Mason had tried to separate us during medevac processing too.”
That was true.
At Ramstein, he told me Rex might travel on a different aircraft.
I lost my temper.
Threatened to refuse boarding.
A veterinary officer eventually kept us on the same movement.
I had arrived at Halstead already convinced Mason wanted Rex away from me.
Some of that turned out true.
Some of it made me react faster than I should have.
I said:
“I could've grabbed the leash without shoving him.”
Emily nodded.
Not absolving.
Not condemning.
Just hearing it.
Then she handed me a printed page.
“Central audit.”
The Regional Vet Admin 2 account.
Investigators had identified most users through workstation logs.
Leah.
Another clerk.
A supervisor.
One unknown session.
02:11.
The session that opened Rex, Atlas and Lane Six.
Workstation location:
K9 Training Operations Building — Germany
Not hospital administration.
Somebody at the exercise site had logged into the veterinary admin account.
“How?”
“Saved credentials in a browser.”
I stared.
“That can't be allowed.”
“It wasn't.”
“Whose computer?”
A shared operations tablet dock.
Used by command staff.
Handlers.
Contractor liaison.
Safety staff.
Too many people.
Then Emily pointed at the next line.
The 02:11 user did not edit anything.
But at 02:16 they exported a PDF.
MWD MEDICAL RESTRICTIONS — ACTIVE
Rex.
Atlas.
Three other dogs.
“Maybe somebody preparing the morning brief.”
“Yes.”
“Then why only Lane Six dogs?”
Emily looked at me.
“That's what Vale asked.”
Someone had specifically checked the medical status of the dogs scheduled for that lane before Atlas's accident.
Not proof they expected an accident.
Could be ordinary planning.
Could be the beginning of something else.
Rex took another shaky step.
The room applauded quietly.
May you like
For a minute, I chose the dog in front of me over the file in my hand.
That was progress too.
