"Your brother has nothing to do with this hospital."
"Then why did you recognize the tag?"
Lawson remained silent.
Rex suddenly stopped barking.
His head turned toward the door.
His ears moved.
Then he began whining.
It was a sound Marcus had never heard from him before.
Not during combat.
Not during explosions.
Not even when Rex had been injured.
It sounded almost like grief.
Emily looked down at the dog.
"Marcus..."
He crouched beside Rex.
The German Shepherd pressed his head against Marcus's chest.
Marcus gently touched his neck.
"It's okay, boy."
But Rex kept staring at the door.
Then something happened.
From behind the locked door came three faint knocks.
Everyone froze.
Three knocks.
A pause.
Then three more.
Emily stepped backward.
"Did you hear that?"
Marcus stood slowly.
He looked at Lawson.
"What is behind that door?"
Lawson's face had turned pale.
"Nothing."
The knocking came again.
This time, it was louder.
Rex barked violently.
Marcus reached for the door handle.
Lawson shouted.
"DO NOT OPEN IT!"
Marcus turned.
"Why?"
Lawson looked around.
For the first time, his composure completely collapsed.
"Because the person inside that room is not supposed to be alive."
6. THE NAME ON THE RECORD
A security alarm suddenly sounded.
Red lights flashed along the ceiling.
The restricted door clicked.
Then its electronic lock released.
Emily stared at the panel.
"I didn't enter anything."
Marcus looked at Lawson.
"Did you?"
The doctor said nothing.
The door slowly opened.
A cold draft moved through the corridor.
Beyond it was a narrow passage with dim lighting and several abandoned medical rooms.
A sign on the wall read:
WING C — TEMPORARILY CLOSED.
Marcus stepped inside.
"Stay behind me."
Emily followed.
Rex moved first.
The dog walked down the corridor with his nose close to the floor.
He stopped outside a room.
The number was clearly visible.
417.
Marcus reached for the handle.
Locked.
Emily examined the electronic panel.
"There's a manual override."
She opened a small metal cover.
Inside was a key slot.
Marcus looked toward Lawson.
"Key."
Lawson shook his head.
"I don't have one."
Marcus stared at him.
"Then who does?"
No answer.
Rex scratched the door.
Then he sat down.
He looked at Marcus.
For a moment, the dog's expression seemed almost pleading.
Marcus slowly crouched.
"Is he in there?"
Rex let out a soft whine.
Marcus closed his eyes.
Six years.
Six years of believing his brother had died.
Six years of unanswered questions.
Six years of wondering why the military had refused to release the full mission report.
He stood.
"Open the door."
Emily found a small emergency access key in the wall-mounted security box.
She hesitated.
"Marcus, if we do this, we may be violating hospital protocol."
He looked at her.
"My brother's name is on that tag."
He paused.
"And someone inside this hospital knows why."
Emily inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Inside was a small room containing an old hospital bed, a medical monitor, and a metal cabinet.
The room appeared abandoned.
Dust covered the floor.
The monitor was switched off.
But on the bed lay a folded military blanket.
Marcus approached slowly.
He recognized it immediately.
It was the same type of blanket his brother had carried during deployments.
He reached down.
A small photograph was tucked beneath it.
Two young men stood beside a German Shepherd.
One was Marcus.
The other was Christopher.
Marcus stared at the photograph.
He had never seen it before.
On the back was a handwritten message.
IF REX FINDS YOU, IT MEANS I DIDN'T MAKE IT OUT.
Marcus's fingers began to tremble.
Emily covered her mouth.
Then Rex moved toward the metal cabinet.
He barked once.
Marcus opened it.