The drive initialized with a soft click.

A window popped up, requesting a decryption key.

I glanced at the text message on my phone again.

*VANGUARD_MANIFEST_ACTIVE.*

I typed the words into the prompt, my left fingers clumsy on the keys.

The progress bar filled instantly.

A folder opened, containing three subdirectories and a single encrypted document file.

The document name was a string of military code: *OP-VAN-0500-T.*

I double-clicked it.

The screen filled with the familiar, rigid formatting of a Department of the Army tactical movement order.

My name was highlighted in yellow.

“Rank: Captain,” I read aloud, the words tasting like ash. “Branch: Logistics. Duty Status: Immediate Reassignment.”

Madison leaned over my shoulder, her breath hot on my neck.

“It says you are scheduled for a flight,” she whispered.

“At five tomorrow morning,” I said.

“From where?”

“A private airfield near the state line,” I said, reading the coordinates off the screen. “Weapons testing range in the high desert.”

My father watched me, his expression perfectly still.

The rain outside hammered against the glass panes of the security office, a relentless, dull roar.