I bypassed the main entrance and drove straight for the secluded loading dock at the back.

I killed the headlights and let the car coast to a stop near the heavy steel service doors.

The rain drummed hard against the metal roof of my sedan, a deafening, rhythmic noise.

I reached into my glove compartment and pulled out my service weapon.

I checked the chamber, slid the slide back, and tucked it into my waistband under my jacket.

I also grabbed a small, heavy black device from the center console.

It was an encrypted tactical transceiver from my unit at Fort Liberty.

I slipped it into my inner coat pocket, feeling its reassuring weight against my chest.

I stepped out into the cold night air, the wind catching my jacket.

The rain soaked my hair instantly, running down my neck.

I ran toward the side door of the administrative wing, keeping low.

The door was propped open with a wooden wedge, just as I expected.

I slipped inside, my wet boots squeaking softly on the polished linoleum.

The hallway was dead silent, smelling of industrial floor wax and old paper.