I looked down at Emily’s face and felt something inside me become very still.
The medic said, “Sir, we need to move her.”
I nodded. “Take her to the infirmary. Full exam. Photographs. Chain of custody on every scrap of clothing. No one touches her phone except Patel.”
Emily’s good eye lifted to mine.
“I’m not leaving,” I said.
She relaxed enough to let them carry her.
My current class had gathered outside the barracks by then. Twenty-four men and women from three private security contracts, all halfway through an advanced protection course. They had learned convoy drills that week. Counter-surveillance. Emergency extraction. Evidence preservation.
Now they stood silent.
I turned to them.