“This won’t save her,” Brandon said. “My mother has friends in high places.”

“I have soldiers,” I replied.

I grabbed the IV pole and helped Emily slide out of the bed.

She groaned, her face tight with pain, but she did not cry out.

Reeves took her other arm, supporting her weight.

We moved quickly out the side door of the room, leaving Brandon standing by the window.

We walked down the sterile service corridor, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead.

Two MPs in utilities stood by the service elevator, their faces expressionless.

“Colonel,” one of them said, saluting.

“Secure the exit,” I said.

We got into the elevator, the heavy metal doors sliding shut.

The descent was silent except for the hum of the motor.

At the basement level, a military ambulance was waiting, its engine idling.

The rain beat a relentless rhythm against the concrete loading dock.

We loaded Emily into the back.

I climbed in beside her, holding her hand.

“Where are we going?” she whispered, her fingers cold and trembling.

“Fort Liberty,” I said. “You’ll be safe there.”