Silence settled thick in the bunker.
Captain Vessa Aldrin stood near the steel table, one gloved hand resting beside the M4, the other hanging loose at her side. She wasn't posturing. She didn't need to. Everything about her presence said: I've led men into fire. I've come back without all of them.
Jack sat with his arms bound to the chair, unmoving. Watching. Waiting.
"You're trained," she said, level.
Jack didn't reply.
"You don't ask where you are. You don't beg. You don't barter. That's not ignorance. That's protocol."
Still nothing.
She began to move—slowly pacing, boots crunching over grit. "You haven't asked for food. Water. Medical care. You haven't made a demand. You haven't made a plea."
She looked at him again.
Jack held her gaze.
"You're not behaving like a prisoner," she said.
"I'm not," he answered.
"You're restrained. Unarmed. Outnumbered."
Jack stayed still. "Doesn't change the facts."
"Which facts?"
"That I'm a Marine. That I'm still operational. And that I'm observing everything."
Her jaw tensed a little. Just enough for him to see it.
"You believe that makes you valuable?"
"No," Jack said. "That makes me a variable."
Vessa's face gave nothing back. "You're assuming I care what you notice."
"You don't have to," Jack said. "But you will."
She leaned forward slightly. "Enlighten me."
Jack's eyes flicked toward the lantern above them. "You're using kerosene lamps with fractured glass. One shot, that becomes a pressure-fed incendiary. Your bunker vents don't lead out. They recirculate. One detonation, and everyone down here chokes."
He turned his head slightly toward the rear.
"Your security rotations are inconsistent. Your map isn't covered, and your command codes are written in plain sight. You've got two unsecured boxes with unknown contents near an ammo crate. That's a chain reaction waiting to happen."
He looked at her again.
"And your guards keep leaving their safeties off."
The room was quiet again.
Vessa's hand lifted from the table. She didn't look rattled—but she didn't interrupt.
"I'm not your threat," Jack said. "But you're underestimating someone out there who is."
She straightened slowly. Measured. "What are you trying to prove?"
Jack answered flatly.
"I'm not the one who needs to prove anything."
A pause.
Then she gave a faint nod to one of the soldiers.
"Leave us."
The guard hesitated, then stepped out, closing the hatch behind him.
Vessa didn't move for a long moment.
Then, finally: "You're not Ferali."
"No, ma'am."
"But you're dangerous."
Jack met her eyes. "Only if you put me in the wrong place."