Chapter 4 - ENTER GENERAL GERALD
Before anyone in the room could speak, the heavy steel security doors at the front of the briefing room hissed open.
General Gerald stepped into the room. At sixty-one years old, the general was a imposing figure with short silver hair and a dark formal military dress uniform covered in rows of ribbons, stars, and elite service decorations. His presence normally commanded immediate discipline, and the moment he entered, every operator and officer around the table instinctively snapped to rigid attention.
General Gerald took two steps into the room, his boots clicking sharply against the floor.
Then he stopped.
His sharp grey eyes cut through the room and locked instantly onto the exposed inner wrist of the mechanic standing by the wall.
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The general’s breath hitched in his chest. His posture locked up. For three agonizing seconds, the broad, feared military commander stood completely motionless, his eyes glued to the black split-triangle brand burned into Monroe’s skin.
The entire briefing room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. The only sound remaining was the faint electrical hum of the tactical map display flickering against the wall.
