“No,” Aria replied. “That device is evidence.”

Harlow’s eyes jumped to Mercer before he could stop them. It was small. It was enough. The second MP saw it. So did the Marine by the lockers. So did Aria.

Mercer had spent months training people to fear his rank. But fear has a weakness: it makes people look toward the person holding it.

“You have no authorization to record in this area,” Mercer said.

“I have authorization to document interference with an active internal review.”

The word active changed the air. Harlow swallowed. One of the Marines whispered something under his breath, and Mercer looked at him until the whisper died.