“Keep a clear head,” Martinez said.

He hung up.

I minimized the browser window but kept the camera feed running in the background.

The clock on my laptop read eighteen hundred hours.

The base mess hall smelled of boiled cabbage and industrial floor cleaner.

I took a plastic tray off the stack and worked my way down the serving line.

The food service worker dropped a scoop of dry rice and a piece of baked chicken onto my plate.

I headed to a table in the back corner.