“They won’t—they won’t listen to anyone, sir,” Fletcher stammered, clutching his bitten glove. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Brick turned his attention to the woman standing in the corner of the room, a small figure in gray coveralls clutching a mop, her eyes cast downward. She was here again. Third time this morning. He had told her twice already that this was a restricted area, that civilian cleaning staff had no business being anywhere near the K9 facility during an active situation.
She kept showing up anyway.
“Hey, civilian,” Brick barked, his voice carrying the full authority of his rank. “I already told you once. Restricted area. Get out. Now.”
The woman—her name tag read “Amber”—nodded slightly and backed toward the door. But as she moved, something strange happened.
Doors & Windows
Phantom lifted his head.
His nose twitched almost imperceptibly. His tail, which had been rigid as a steel cable for the past six hours, wagged once. Just once. Then he lay back down and continued his vigil.
No one noticed.
No one except Amber.
She paused at the threshold, her eyes fixed on the casket where the body of Chief Petty Officer Caleb rested. Her hand tightened on the mop handle until her knuckles went white.
