Chapter 7 - The Tunnels
The utility tunnels beneath Camp Vora were narrow, concrete tubes choked with steam pipes and stagnant, knee-deep water. The air was hot and thick, suffocatingly humid compared to the freezing rain above ground.
Miller led the way with a small tactical flashlight, ducking under rusty electrical conduits.
“Why did you do it?” Miller asked quietly as we sloshed through the brown water. “Back in the mess hall. You could have stayed quiet. You were undercover.”
“Because an officer doesn't stand by while a soldier under their care is degraded,” I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the shadows ahead. “Rank isn't a weapon to crush people, Miller. It’s a responsibility to protect them. Sterling forgot that the day he took his commission.”
We reached a rusty iron ladder at the end of the tunnel. Above us, the heavy hum of high-voltage transformers vibrated through the metal rungs.
“This hatch opens up right behind the north ridge communications bunker,” Miller whispered, pointing his light upward. “If we break the power grid from here, the signal jammers will drop, and the base backup emergency line will auto-connect to JBLM.”
“Good work, Private,” I said, slipping my hand into my pocket and handing him one of my silver oak leaves. “Keep this. When this night is over, you’re going to need it as proof that you helped save this base.”
Miller stared at the silver leaf in his hand, a look of profound pride sweeping over his young face. He nodded firmly. “Let’s take this bastard down.”
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Suddenly, the iron hatch above us was kicked open with a terrifying metallic crash.
A flashbang grenade tumbled down the rungs, bouncing off the steel ladder before dropping directly into the water at our feet.
