I had forgotten about the scheduled maintenance window on the base server.

My grip on the Beretta grew damp with sweat.

“We can still resolve this quietly, Captain,” Hayes said.

He took a slow step forward into the room.

The wet leather of his boots squeaked softly on the hardwood floor.

“Stay where you are, Colonel,” I said, tightening my finger on the trigger.

I took a half-step back, ensuring Madison was completely shielded by my body.

“Think about your future, Natalie,” my father said.

“You have a very promising career ahead of you.”

“Marcus can make sure you get the promotion you wanted.”

“You could be out of the muddy fields permanently.”

“I don’t want a promotion bought with blood,” I said.

“It is not blood,” Hayes said. “It is simply logistics.”

“We are redirecting surplus supplies to buyers who appreciate their actual value.”

“They are combat medical supplies,” I said. “Our soldiers are dying because they don’t have them.”

“Soldiers die regardless,” Hayes said.

His voice was completely devoid of emotion or regret.

“That is the nature of the service we chose.”