Pulled out boots.
Folded undershirts.
Socks.
A field notebook.
Toiletry kit.
A small pouch.
Then Daniel's spare Common Access Card holder.
Mitchell froze.
He opened it.
Photo.
Name.
Department of Defense.
Rank.
Colonel.
Military affiliation.
He looked toward Daniel.
For the first time, uncertainty appeared.
Daniel felt relief.
Not triumph.
Relief.
Finally.
Mitchell walked back carrying the credential.
He held it between two fingers.
“This yours?”
“Yes.”
“Fake?”
“No.”
“It says colonel.”
“I know.”
Mitchell looked at him.
Then at the card.
“Colonel.”
“Yes.”
“Army.”
“Yes.”
Daniel waited.
Mitchell laughed.
Barnes looked up sharply.
Mitchell shook his head.
“People like you don't become colonels.”
Barnes went completely still.
Daniel felt something cold settle in his chest.
There were moments when ambiguity ended.
That was one.
He said:
“That credential can be verified through federal channels.”
Mitchell stepped closer.
“Anybody can print a card.”
“Not that card.”
“You carrying fake federal ID?”
“No.”
“That’s a felony.”
Daniel looked at Barnes.
“You understand how easily this can be verified.”
Barnes nodded once.
Mitchell saw.
“Stop nodding at him.”
Barnes frowned.
“Craig.”
“Don't.”
“Maybe we verify it.”
Mitchell moved within two feet of Daniel.
“I don't need my rookie telling me what to do.”
“I’m not a rookie.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
Daniel looked at Mitchell's body camera.
Red indicator.
Recording.
Mitchell noticed his gaze.
Then did something that changed everything.
He reached to his chest.
Pressed the button.
The indicator went out.
Click.
Small sound.
Daniel heard it as clearly as a rifle bolt.
Barnes stared.
“Craig.”
Mitchell looked toward him.
“What?”
“Turn it back on.”
Mitchell ignored him.
Daniel moved his wrist slightly.
Thumb against the inner side of the watch.
Two taps.
Pause.
One long press.
The screen did not visibly change.
But beneath the normal watch face, the secure emergency application opened.
A coded signal transmitted.
Location.
Identity.
Priority channel.
Then audio.
Fort Bradley's command duty desk received it.
Daniel did not know who was listening yet.
He only knew someone would.
Mitchell tucked the fake accusation into his posture like armor.
He placed one hand near his holstered pistol.
Not drawing.
Resting.
Message enough.
“You know what your problem is?”
Daniel said nothing.
“You think that little fake card makes you important.”
Daniel looked at his hand near the weapon.