She unlocked her phone with a swipe, dialed a number from memory, and lifted it to her ear. The line clicked almost immediately. A deep grally voice answered stern, authoritative, unmistakably military. Major Henderson speaking. Ayana exhaled once, steady, and professional.
This is Ayanna Brooks reporting from Silver Ridge High. A pause. The tone on the other end shifted instantly, alert, sharpened. Brooks, you're supposed to be off duty. What's going on?
Ayana's voice remained calm, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable. I've been attacked by three students. They forcibly detained me, brought me to a rooftop, then shoved me off the edge. Major Henderson swore under his breath. "Are you injured?"
"No, sir," she replied. "I handled the landing and the dogs." Ayana glanced around. Chaos was stationed near the fence, eyes locked on the building. Diesel paced slowly near the side gate, muscles coiled, awaiting further commands.
Vector stood tall beside her like a sentinel carved from stone. They responded to command immediately, she said. I have them securing the perimeter of the building so the suspects can't escape. There was complete silence on the line for a moment, heavy, stretched thin with unspoken calculation. Then Major Henderson's voice dropped into a tone Ayana hadn't heard in months, one reserved only for active field recognition.
Outstanding work, Lieutenant Brooks. Ayana's jaw tightened. Sir, she corrected quietly. I'm not a lieutenant anymore. I'm a student right now.
Another pause. Then came the plot twist delivered with absolute conviction. You will always be Lieutenant Brooks. The youngest operational K9 unit leader this country has ever had. That title doesn't vanish because you change schools.
Ayana closed her eyes for a second, letting the words wash over her. She hadn't wanted anyone here to know. Not students, not teachers, not anyone. She wanted a clean slate, a life without sirens, missions, or the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. But that choice had been taken from her today.
"Understood, sir," she said softly. Major Henderson's voice hardened. "Send me the names of the boys." Ayana glanced toward the rooftop. Carter was pacing like a caged animal.
Logan looked ready to cry. Bryce was clutching his phone in terror as if it could somehow save him. Carter Hail, Logan Pierce, Bryce Tanner. Major Henderson repeated the names slowly. Hail.
Pierce. Tanner. Copy. Footsteps and radio chatter echoed faintly behind him. Ayana knew that sound well.
The K9 command van warming up. Officers grabbing gear. A unit mobilizing. She didn't need to ask. He was already coming.