Chapter 6 - THE UNFINISHED TAG
Nathan swallowed hard, his skin suddenly clammy under the hot sun. "That... that’s impossible. These rifles were inspected by the depot armorer two hours ago. The tags are right here!"
Margaret didn't answer Nathan. Instead, her pale eyes swept slowly across the stainless-steel inspection table.
Resting beside the five remaining M4A1 carbines was a yellow cardboard inspection tag. It was stamped with the official insignia of the Fort Liberty Logistics Command, but the signature line at the bottom was only half-finished—a blue ink stroke that trailed off into an abrupt, messy blotch.
Margaret walked slowly past Nathan, stepping right up to the table. She didn't touch the paper. She simply leaned down, her eyes scanning the microscopic details of the tag: the fresh thumbprint near the upper grommet, the slight tear along the perforations, and the faint smell of solvent clinging to the cardstock.
Daniel followed her gaze, his heart pounding against his ribs.
"The armorer didn't finish the inspection," Daniel said, his mind putting the pieces together at terrifying speed. "He was interrupted. Or..."
"Or he realized what he was looking at," Margaret said quietly. Her voice was flat, devoid of panic, carrying the terrifying clarity of someone who had seen this exact pattern before.
She raised her head, looking out over the five remaining carbines resting in their foam trays.
"Don't touch the others," Margaret warned softly.
Nathan blinked, his arrogance completely gone, replaced by a rising wave of panic. "Ma'am... who are you? What is going on here?"
May you like
Margaret turned her head slowly to face him. Under the bright, unfiltered daylight of Range 19, her expression was unreadable—a wall of silence that no military rank or title could penetrate.
For the first time all morning, Major Nathan Rourke stopped smiling.
