Captain David Miller came around the corner at a brisk march.

His service uniform was flawless, every crease razor sharp.

He looked utterly worn out, with dark shadows under his eyes from a long shift.

Tired as he was, his posture stayed perfectly rigid.

Corporal Brandt hurried along close behind him with a clipboard.

“Captain, the woman in the cell presented a flagged ID card,” Brandt said.

Miller stopped squarely in front of the cell.

He looked at me sitting on the wooden bench.