On the passport, my photo was printed beside a name I didn’t recognize.

“Your daughter is already across the border,” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“If you want to see her again, you have to leave this base tonight.”

“How do I know this isn’t another trap?” I asked, my eyes scanning his face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, tarnished silver medallion.

It was my father’s military dog tag, the one I had lost years ago on my first deployment.

My breath caught in my throat.

“He sent me,” the man said simply.

“Now, we have less than three minutes before the guard shifts change.”

He reached down, his fingers pressing a small release button on my handcuffs.

The metal clicked, and my hands fell free.

I rubbed my wrists, looking at the passport on the bench.

The choice was in front of me.

I could run, disappear, and save my daughter.

Or I could stay and fight the system that had betrayed me.

I looked at the silver dog tag in his hand, then back at the door.