Four towering men in military police uniforms marched into the cramped apartment, their faces completely void of emotion. They stood in perfect formation just outside the bedroom door, their presence instantly shrinking the space. Leading them was Captain Marcus Vance, a hardened officer who had served under my father, Colonel James Bennett, for nearly a decade.
"Colonel Bennett, sir," Captain Vance announced, executing a crisp, flawless salute. "The perimeter is secure. Personnel and transport are standing by as ordered."