Hans woke before sunrise, the same as most mornings now.
He washed up, dressed, and made his way to the Command Room. A folder sat waiting on his desk among the rest—road conditions, supply counts, a note about the Westgate survey's progress. One folder sat apart from the others, a single word marked across the front in Dominic's neat handwriting: Medical (Priority).
Hans opened it.
Six examinations. Six clean results. No infection, no abnormal readings, nothing requiring treatment.
He kept reading.
Then came the second page—the description of the machine, the biological screening, the termination protocol, the dogs passed through untouched while all four Scouts were marked contaminated. A short note at the bottom, written separately from the main report: a request that he review the discrepancy himself rather than take the clean scan as the final word.
Hans set the folder down and stared at the wall for a moment.
"Dmitri has completed his mission, but now—"
