She dropped her camera bag on the bed and checked the backup batteries in her vest. "Don't worry. I'll be on time."
Taylor gave a short nod and stepped back into the sunlight. "See you around, Parker."
Rachel rolled her shoulders, easing into the familiar weight. She grabbed her notebook, checked her camera, and stepped outside.
The heat hit like a physical blow. Sweat started immediately. Dust clung to her skin and boots. The entire base hummed, engines, shouted orders, the constant pulse of a place built to sustain war.
She moved quickly along Taylor's described path. Near the motor pool, Humvees sat in a long row, dust gathering in their seams. Asquad jogged past, rifles bouncing against their chests as their sergeant barked cadence.
One soldier caught her eye as she passed. Tall, sleeves pushed up, showing off his arms. The smirk he flashed said he expected her to be impressed.
She let it slide off, kept her pace. Different base, same energy. Someone always wanted to test the new face.
The command office sat ahead, low and weathered, sandbags stacked along the foundation. A metal sign hung crooked over the doorway, rust eating the corners. Rachel adjusted her camera strap and ducked inside.
The air changed the second the door closed. The room was cramped, every wall covered with something important. Maps on the back wall. Papers scattered across the desk in organized chaos. A radio crackled from the corner. A coffee cup perched at the desk's edge.
Commander Anders sat behind the desk, eyes locked on a file. After a moment, he closed the folder and looked up.
"Parker."
She stepped forward and offered her hand. "Colonel."
He accepted with a single firm shake, then pointed to the chair opposite. Rachel sat straight-backed, meeting his gaze. She'd done this in more offices than she could count.
"I'll keep it simple," Anders said, voice level and shaped by years of command. "You're here to cover special operations. You've worked conflict zones, so I assume you know how not to get in the way. But this assignment isn't like the others."
Rachel nodded, holding his gaze. "I understand."
He tapped his pen once against the folder. The sound was quiet but carried weight. "You'll be embedding with SEAL Team Three. Direct action. Their CO is Lieutenant Logan Hayes."
Rachel's stomach tightened slightly. She'd read the name, the file, the commendations. Underneath was a pile of redacted notes not meant for public reports. The man had a reputation, brilliant operator, fiercely protective of his team, and about as welcoming to outsiders as a barbed wire fence.
"He's one of the strongest operators we have," Anders continued. "Quiet. Disciplined. Keeps his unit tight. Outsiders aren't his preference."
Rachel met his eyes. "Should I be worried?"
"Only if you make yourself a distraction." His tone stayed clipped. "His team follows him because he's earned their trust. You won't start with that advantage."
"I've worked with difficult units before," she said.
Anders didn't blink. "Then you know you'll have to prove yourself. Every day."
Rachel leaned in slightly. "How do I do that here?"
Something like a smile flickered across his face, though it never reached his eyes. "Stay out of their way. Do your job. Don't make me regret clearing you."
She exhaled slowly, unfazed. "Understood."
He checked his watch and closed the folder. "Hayes and his men are still out. They'll return late."
Rachel kept her voice even despite the flutter in her pulse. "When do I meet them?"
"Zero six hundred. Be ready."
She rose, nodded once, and stepped into the fading light. The sun had dropped behind the blast walls, but heat stayed thick, wrapping around her like a second vest. The base had shifted into evening rhythm. Soldiers moved toward the chow hall. Others checked weapons or nursed cigarettes in shadows.
Anders's warning echoed in her mind. They won't trust you.
