Chapter 4 - The Command Titan Remembered
Titan had never disobeyed Mara.
That frightened her more than the stranger’s face.
The German Shepherd strained forward only once, but the movement was unmistakable. His ears angled toward the parking lot. His muscles tightened beneath the harness. A low, uncertain sound rose in his throat.
Not aggression.
Recognition.
Mara stepped in front of him.
“Titan. Center.”
The dog’s eyes moved to her.
For one long second, he remained divided between the woman standing before him and the command that had reached across the parking lot.
Then he returned to her left side.
The senior K9 officer, Master Sergeant Owen Reed, signaled the handlers.
Two teams moved through the open doors.
Another pair secured the school hallway.
Voss guided Noah behind the folded blue wall padding.
Carter stayed frozen near the microphone stand.
“Move,” Mara ordered.
The authority in her voice finally broke through his shock.
He followed.
Outside, an engine roared.
Tires scraped against pavement.
One of the handlers shouted into his radio as the dark sedan accelerated toward the rear exit.
The government vehicle blocked part of the lane, forcing the sedan to jump a curb. Its undercarriage struck concrete with a burst of sparks.
Then it vanished behind the school building.
“No pursuit,” Mara said into Reed’s radio. “Protect the students.”
Reed repeated the order.
Within minutes, local police sirens approached from the main road. Teachers locked doors. Administrators struggled to control the students gathering at windows with phones pressed against the glass.
Mara crouched beside Titan.
She ran her fingers along the hidden identification tag beneath his harness.
The metal was warm.
The insignia was still there: a small silver emblem shaped like a star split by a vertical line.
Task Group Aster.
The emblem should not have existed.
Every physical identifier connected to the task group had been destroyed after the final operation.
She looked at Reed.
“Who fitted this harness?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Before departure.”
“Did you inspect the tag?”
“I didn’t know there was one.”
Mara removed the tag carefully.
It was not clipped to the harness.
It had been sewn beneath the inner strap.
Noah watched from behind Voss.
“What does it mean?”
Mara closed her hand around the metal.
“Someone had access to Titan before today.”
Reed’s expression darkened.
“The kennel has biometric security.”
“So did my file.”
Carter stepped closer.
“You’re suggesting someone infiltrated a military installation to attach a tag to a dog?”
“I’m stating it.”
“And the man outside?”
Mara looked at him.
“You saw his face.”
“Barely.”
“Did you recognize him?”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
She rose.
“You recognized the insignia.”
“I’ve seen classified unit symbols.”
“Not that one.”
Carter’s mouth tightened.
Voss watched them both.
“Lieutenant, surrender your phone and credentials.”
“You don’t have authority to—”
Reed held out his hand.
“Do it.”
Carter looked around for support.
The school administrator had already retreated toward the hallway. The teachers avoided his gaze.
Slowly, he removed his identification badge and placed it in Reed’s hand. Then he gave Voss his phone.
Mara turned to Noah.
“We’re leaving.”
“Where?”
“A secure location.”
“Home?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because if that man was Daniel, he knows where we live.”
Noah’s expression hardened.
“You still think it might be him.”
Mara looked toward the parking lot.
The stranger had been older, leaner, and partly hidden by glare.
But the way he lifted his fingers had belonged to Daniel.
The command was not standard.
They had invented it together during Titan’s earliest training years.
Two fingers raised, wrist angled inward.
Return to original handler.
Only three people knew it.
Mara.
Daniel.
And Elias Voss.
She looked at the colonel.
He met her eyes without flinching.
“What?” he asked.
“You said Daniel’s identity token opened the roster.”
“Yes.”
“Where was the token stored?”
Voss hesitated.
“In a sealed evidence vault.”
“Who had access?”
“Two archive supervisors.”
“And?”
His silence answered her.
Mara stepped closer.
“You.”
Noah looked between them.
Voss lowered his voice.
“I did not open that vault.”
“But you could.”
“So could someone with command-level authorization.”
“Task Group Aster no longer has command-level authorization.”
“Someone reactivated it.”
Reed approached with Carter’s phone.
“There’s no revised program email.”
Carter stared at him.
“What?”
“The message you showed us is gone.”
“That’s impossible.”
Reed held up the screen.
“The entire account cache was remotely wiped.”
Carter reached for the phone, but Reed moved it away.
Mara studied him.
“Did you forward the order to anyone?”
“My assistant.”
“Name.”
“Petty Officer Glenn Mercer.”
Voss’s expression sharpened.
“Mercer was assigned to Aster’s administrative cell.”
Mara felt the old instincts returning.
Every detail mattered.
Every coincidence was a deliberate act pretending to be chance.
“Where is Mercer now?” she asked.
Carter swallowed.
“He called in sick.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“What did he ask about?”
Carter looked at Noah.
“He asked whether the boy had ever mentioned a dog named Titan.”
Noah felt the blood drain from his face.
Mara stepped so quickly that Carter flinched.
“And you didn’t think that was important?”
“I thought he was helping verify the story.”
“You told him Titan would be here.”
Carter said nothing.
Mara’s hand closed around the hidden tag.
The sharp metal edge cut her palm.
A thin line of blood appeared between her fingers.
She barely noticed.
Voss’s secure phone rang.
He answered, listened, and turned toward her.
“We found Mercer’s car.”
“Where?”
“Outside your house.”
Noah moved toward his mother.
“What is he doing there?”
Voss did not answer immediately.
His eyes shifted to Titan.
“The front door is open, and the responding team found someone inside.”
Mara’s voice became quiet.
“Who?”
May you like
Voss looked directly at Noah.
“A man carrying your father’s wedding ring.”
