Whitmore stepped forward then, his voice calm but carrying unmistakable authority. “That’s far enough.”
Harlan turned with irritation. “Sir, this is an active security—” His voice faltered mid-sentence. Recognition dawned in waves.
Whitmore removed his identification slowly, holding it at eye level. The insignia and credentials left no room for doubt. The younger officers stiffened immediately.
“You will step away from that soldier,” Whitmore said evenly.
Harlan straightened instinctively. “Sir, I was conducting a lawful procedure.”
“For three minutes and twelve seconds,” Whitmore replied, glancing at his phone screen, “I have documented your procedure.”
The words landed heavily. Luke looked up slightly, recognition flashing across his face. “General,” he said quietly.
Whitmore extended his hand. “On your feet, Sergeant.”
Luke rose carefully, brushing dust from his knees. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder now, phones recording from multiple angles.
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