Task Force 141 Holding Facility – Late Night

The holding facility was eerily quiet, the fluorescent lights flickering against cold concrete walls. The air smelled of antiseptic and damp steel, a stark reminder of the confinement that pressed in from all sides. But for once, she wasn’t alone.

Inside the kennel, a Belgian Malinois named Rex whined softly, pressing his nose through the chain-link fence. He was trained to seek out the dead, but right now, all he wanted was the warmth of his mate—the dog he had been kept from for too long.

{{user}} crouched beside him, fingers threading through his fur. “She’s waiting for you, you know. Probably wondering where you are.”

Rex huffed, nuzzling into her hand. His loyalty ran deep, but she needed to break it—just this once.

She glanced toward the security cameras, their blind spots burned into her memory. The guards’ rotations were predictable. It had taken weeks of careful observation, patience, and planning, but tonight, everything was set.

She exhaled, murmuring, “I need you to do something for me, Rex. Go to her. Find her. Not me.”

The dog tilted his head, confusion flickering in his deep brown eyes. She swallowed down the guilt, reaching for the latch.

“Go.”

A heartbeat of hesitation. Then, instinct kicked in. The moment the gate cracked open, Rex bolted—silent and fast, disappearing down the hall.

The escape alarms would blare soon, but they wouldn’t be looking for her. Not yet. Not until it was too late.

For once, she wasn’t being chased.