I walked over to the edge of the manicured lawn, where the mud had turned into a dark slurry from the tires of the military vehicles.

I dropped the ring into the mud.

I watched it sink, the gold quickly disappearing under the gray, dirty water.

The engines of the transport vans roared louder as the drivers put them into gear.

The heavy vehicles began to move down the long, paved driveway of the Monroe estate, their tires throwing up sprays of water.

The blue and red lights swept across the trees, fading slowly as the convoy reached the outer gates.

The estate was quiet again, save for the sound of the rain hitting the leaves.

I turned back to General Vance.

He was watching me, his arms still crossed.

I stood straight, my shoulders back, the weight of the last three years finally lifting from my chest.

I raised my right hand to the brim of my cap and delivered a crisp, formal salute.

“Requesting permission to return to headquarters, sir,” I said.

General Vance returned the salute, his eyes steady.

“Permission granted, Colonel,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

I turned and walked toward the waiting command vehicle, my boots steady on the wet asphalt, leaving the empty mansion behind me.