She reassembled the rifle in 10.2 seconds.
The corridor became absolutely silent. Even Hendricks stopped smiling.
Before anyone could speak, Colonel Marcus Davidson arrived with his inspection team and three Pentagon observers. He took one look at the crowd, the weapon, the wet floor, and the woman in maintenance coveralls, and his expression darkened.
"What exactly is going on here?" Davidson demanded.
"Just some entertainment, Colonel," Hendricks said smoothly. "The maintenance worker was showing off a few skills."
Davidson turned his attention toward the woman. "Your name and position."
She met his eyes calmly. "Sarah Chen. Maintenance crew. Six months on base."
Rodriguez stepped forward. "Colonel, I think we should verify her credentials. This is starting to smell like stolen valor. Some people like to play dress-up with skills they don't actually have."
"Fine," Davidson said. "Someone call security. Let's verify the credentials she's so reluctant to discuss."
Minutes later, a breathless Base Security Officer arrived, clutching a thick red folder. He bypassed Hendricks entirely and handed it directly to Colonel Davidson. The officer's hands were visibly shaking.
"Sir," the security officer whispered, loud enough for the front row to hear. "The file requires a biometric unlock from a flag officer, but... the system flagged a direct line to JSOC high command the moment we pulled it."
Davidson's brow furrowed. He pressed his thumb to the digital lock on the folder's spine. A green light flashed, and he flipped it open.
Silence stretched as the Colonel read the first page. Then the second. When he finally looked up, all the color had drained from his face. He slowly closed the folder, his eyes locking onto the small woman standing perfectly still amidst the spilled water.