They gave the rookie nurse the deaf Navy SEAL because they wanted to watch her fail.

The clinic on 4th Street was located beneath a dilapidated dry cleaner’s shop in the heart of the industrial district. It was a windowless, concrete room that smelled of rubbing alcohol and old grease, but to Lily, it felt like the safest place on earth.

Dr. Aris, a short, balding man with thick glasses and the calloused hands of a former military surgeon, worked in absolute silence. He didn't ask about the stolen laundry truck parked in the alley, nor did he ask about the severe bruises on Lily’s arms. He simply ushered Caleb onto the metal table, prepped his chest with betadine, and inserted a chest tube with the practiced, efficient speed of a man who had done it a thousand times under mortar fire.

"He's stable," Dr. Aris said, wiping his hands on a sterile towel as the steady, reassuring sound of Caleb’s lungs re-expanding filled the quiet room. "The right lung was eighty percent collapsed. Another twenty minutes, and his heart would have stopped from the pressure. You did well, kid."

"He needs oxygen, doctor," Lily said, her shoulders finally dropping as she sat on a metal stool in the corner of the room.

"He's on a rebreather now," Aris said, pointing to the green tank beside the table. "He'll be fine for a few hours. But you... you need to look at the news."

Aris turned on a small, static-filled television on the counter.

The screen showed the front of the Franklin VA Medical Center. Red and blue lights flashed against the concrete walls of the building, and a serious-looking reporter was standing near the ambulance bay.

"...federal authorities are currently searching for 23-year-old Lily Parker, a rookie nurse who allegedly kidnapped decorated veteran Caleb Ror from his ICU bed early this morning," the reporter said, her voice filled with dramatic tension. "Authorities warn that Parker may be armed and is considered highly dangerous. Anyone with information on her whereabouts is urged to contact..."

"They're calling you a kidnapper, Lily," Aris said quietly, his eyes searching her face. "They have a warrant out for your arrest. If you walk out of that door, you’re going to be hunted."

Lily didn't look at the screen. She looked at Caleb, who was watching her from the table, his eyes filled with a quiet, steady resolve.

We have the drive, Caleb signed, his hand reaching out to touch the console where the encrypted USB lay. We can send it to the naval intelligence unit in Washington. They are the only ones we can trust.

"No," Lily signed back, her face hardening. "If we send it from here, they'll trace the IP address within seconds. They'll find this clinic. They'll find Dr. Aris. We need a secure uplink. A military-grade terminal."

"There's an old naval reserve station three miles from here," Aris said, leaning over the table. "Closed down five years ago, but the emergency communication terminal is still active on the reserve grid. If you can get inside, you can send the files directly to the Chief of Naval Operations."

"Is it guarded?" Lily asked.

"Just a single night watchman," Aris said. "But the security system is old. A Sparrow should be able to bypass it in her sleep."

Lily stood up, her hand reaching into her pocket to retrieve her watch. She strapped it back onto her wrist, the cool leather feeling like a shield against her skin.

"Take care of him, Dr. Aris," she said, her voice quiet and steady. "I'll be back in an hour."

No, Caleb signed, trying to sit up on the table, his hand reaching for her sleeve. You can't go alone. They'll be waiting.