Chapter 4 - The Officer Below
The shout came from below before Marcus could answer.
“Stand down!”
The voice cut through the yard with enough authority to freeze every hand on me. A senior Army officer stood below the wall, late fifties, rigid posture, face lifted toward the ledge in alarm. Behind him, several soldiers had stopped mid-drill, staring up at the scene they were never supposed to witness. The officer’s eyes moved from my hanging body to the cadets gripping my arms, then to the patch in my hand.
He knew the name before I said it.
Marcus looked down. “Sir, she attacked us.”
“No,” I said, still hanging from the ledge. “They pushed me.”
Grant’s jaw tightened. Tyler looked away. Owen’s eyes stayed locked on the patch.
The senior officer stepped closer to the wall. “Cadet Vance, pull her up now.”
Marcus hesitated.
That hesitation mattered. It told every witness below that the danger was not over because the order had been given. The officer saw it too.
“Now,” he barked.
Grant and Tyler pulled first. Marcus joined a second later, mechanically, as if his body obeyed before his mind returned. They dragged me onto the rooftop. I rolled onto my side, coughing dust, my injured arm shaking beneath me. I did not stay down. I pushed up to one knee, then to my feet, slow enough to keep from collapsing and steady enough to make them understand I was not done.
The senior officer reached the roof with two instructors behind him. He looked at Marcus. “Step away from her.”
Marcus did.
Owen did not move.
I turned toward Marcus, still holding the sealed evidence.
“Ask Owen who sold him out.”
May you like
Marcus’s eyes shifted to Owen.
And Owen, for the first time, looked like a man standing at the edge of his own fall.
