Chapter 901

Dr. Reed appeared at the foot of the bed, checking the monitor with the brisk efficiency of a woman who had seen too many soldiers try to turn trauma into stubbornness. “Her temperature is coming up. Oxygen saturation is stable. No obvious intracranial signs, but I am not clearing her from neurological observation until morning.”

“I’m fine,” Caroline said automatically.

Dr. Reed didn’t even look at her. “You inhaled water, took a hard impact to the right side, nearly went hypothermic, then tried to stand up while still attached to an IV because you couldn’t see your husband for seven minutes. You are many things, Caroline. Fine is not currently one of them.”

Jarrod’s jaw tightened.

Caroline closed her eyes. “Did you have to include the husband part?”

“Yes,” Dr. Reed said. “It was medically relevant to the stupidity.”

K.C. Bell stepped into the treatment bay a moment later, carrying a sealed black evidence sleeve and a tablet. He looked at Caroline first, then at Jarrod.

“Sir. Preliminary findings.”

Jarrod’s expression changed. The man beside the bed vanished beneath the commander.

“Go.”

K.C. set the tablet on the rolling tray where Caroline could see it too. The image on the screen showed a section of wet metal hardware, magnified until every scratch looked like a ravine.

“The personal kit remained clean,” K.C. said. “Harness, lanyards, carabiners, lamp, hood, map case, emergency whistle. All verified. The compromise was external, just as suspected.”

Caroline’s fingers curled against the blanket.

K.C. swiped to the next image. “Maintenance bypass gate at span seven had been unclipped and reset at a partial angle. From the course approach, in low light, it would read as a valid transition point if the route marker was shifted.”

“The marker was shifted?” Caroline asked.

“Yes.”

Jarrod didn’t move. “By whom?”

“Unknown. Not yet.” K.C.’s voice remained flat. “But we have two useful pieces. First, the bypass hardware was opened with a maintenance key, not forced. Second, the wrong marker was moved after my equipment audit, between final kit release and course start.”

Sloane.

Melanie.

Or someone neither of them had seen yet.

The thought settled over the room like a blade suspended from the ceiling.

“How many people had access?” Jarrod asked.

“On paper? Six maintenance personnel, three cadre, two range safety officers.” K.C.’s eyes flicked briefly toward Caroline. “In practice, anyone with a stolen key, a copied key, or someone willing to leave the gate unsecured for thirty seconds.”

Caroline stared at the image of the bypass gate. “Melanie was smiling after the equipment check.”

K.C. looked at her. “I know.”

“You saw?”

“I saw enough.”

Jarrod’s voice was quiet. “We need more than enough.”

“Yes, sir.”

A cold, practical silence followed. It was not comforting. Caroline preferred it anyway. Panic lied. Evidence did not.

Dr. Reed removed the heat pack, checked Caroline’s abdomen with practiced hands, then replaced it with a fresh one. “Your cramps were aggravated by cold exposure and shock. They are easing because your core temperature is improving and because I drugged you within medically appropriate limits.”

“That explains why the ceiling is breathing.”

“The ceiling is not breathing.”

“It is a little.”

“Then enjoy the ceiling while it lasts.”

Jarrod’s eyes did not leave Caroline’s face. “Can she return to barracks?”