Chapter 2 - DON'T LET HIM TOUCH REX
Emily started scrolling.
Mason reached for the tablet.
“Probably a synchronization error.”
She pulled it slightly back.
“I need to verify that.”
“I'll handle it.”
“This is a clinical record, sir.”
“And I'm telling you it's a known manifest problem.”
That made me look at him.
“Known?”
Mason stopped.
Emily did too.
I said:
“You already knew?”
“I know medevac records get duplicated.”
“That isn't what you said.”
Mason reached across Emily again.
This time he got the tablet.
He pressed the side button, trying to lock the screen.
I caught his wrist.
“Give it back.”
His eyes snapped to mine.
“Staff Sergeant.”
“No.”
The entire hallway had gone quiet around us.
A wounded specialist in a wheelchair had stopped rolling.
Two nurses were watching.
A veterinary technician stood halfway through the glass K9 door.
Mason leaned closer.
“You have no idea what you're doing.”
“That makes two of us.”
I took the tablet from his hand and gave it back to Emily.
That should have ended it.
Instead Mason grabbed the front of my vest.
I had taken off most of my gear during transport, but I still wore a lightweight travel vest over my hospital clothes.
He shoved me backward.
My shoulder hit the wall.
One crutch clattered onto the floor.
Rex spun.
The cart wheels squealed.
Then he barked.
Not his normal alert bark.
Deep.
Hard.
Focused directly at Mason.
Mason froze.
I had seen Mason stand beside live-fire lanes.
Seen him walk toward soldiers who had accidentally discharged weapons.
Seen him yell over helicopters.
Rex barked once—
and he stepped back.
Not dramatically.
Enough.
I noticed.
So did Emily.
I pushed myself upright against the wall.
“Why is he afraid of you?”
Mason looked at me.
“He's injured.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Rex barked again.
Mason's eyes never left him.
Then the hospital intercom clicked.
A burst of static.
Every nurse looked up.
A man's voice came through the corridor speakers.
Calm.
Clear.
“Cole.”
I froze.
Nobody at the desk had touched the paging handset.
The voice continued.
“Don't let Mason touch the dog.”
Mason's face lost color.
Emily looked toward the nurses' station.
“What the hell?”
The veterinary technician reached for the phone.
Mason stared upward as if he recognized the voice.
I saw that too.
“Who is that?”
He said nothing.
The intercom went silent.
Hospital security arrived less than two minutes later.
By then Mason had backed away from Rex.
Emily still had the tablet.
I had my crutch again.
And nobody could explain why somebody had just used a military hospital paging system to warn me about a colonel by name.
A communications technician traced the page before security even finished separating us.
He looked at Emily.
Then at me.
“It didn't originate at this nurses' station.”
Mason asked:
“Where?”
The technician hesitated.
“Not inside this building.”
I looked at him.
“How does someone outside the hospital get onto the internal intercom?”
“Authorized medical consult lines can be bridged through the operator.”
“Who authorized it?”
He checked.
Then frowned.
“The caller used a veterinary command credential.”
Mason turned away.
That reaction told me more than the answer.
Somebody from the military working-dog medical system knew we had arrived.
May you like
Knew Mason was here.
And believed touching Rex mattered enough to break into a hospital corridor announcement to stop it.
