"And agree on what happens if we lose contact," Mara added.
Bennett looked around the team.
"All right. Every ten minutes, Bell sends a status report. If we lose contact, we stop at the next designated checkpoint unless the safety controller directs otherwise. Grant, keep the alternate route ready."
The team continued.
At 0915, they received another message.
This time, a simulated vehicle breakdown had blocked the western route. Alpha Team was instructed to return to the previous checkpoint and take the southern approach.
Reed swore under his breath.
"They're making us walk in circles."
"That's the exercise," Grant replied.
Bennett studied the map.
The southern route would add nearly forty minutes. If they followed it, they would approach the observation station from a direction they hadn't originally planned to use.
He looked at Mara.
"Your thoughts?"
She examined the map, then the message log.
"Someone is testing whether we'll keep following the original plan after the circumstances change."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning the objective may be less important than how we respond to the instructions."
Bennett nodded.
"Then we adapt."
He turned to the team.
"We take the southern route. Nobody moves ahead without confirmation. If anything changes, we reassess before continuing."
For the first time that morning, Bennett felt that Alpha Team was operating as a unit rather than a collection of individuals.
Mara wasn't commanding them, but her questions were making him a better leader.
As they approached the southern checkpoint, the radio crackled again.
"Alpha Team, this is exercise control. We have an unexpected development. Prepare to receive updated instructions."
Bennett reached for the radio.
"Alpha Team copies."
A brief burst of static followed.
Then a voice came through, calm and unmistakably clear.
"Alpha Team, your objective has changed. You are now responsible for locating and evacuating a simulated casualty in the vicinity of the northern ridge."
Mara stopped walking.
For the first time that morning, her expression changed.
Not because of the new objective.
Because of the voice.
She knew it.
She had heard it years earlier in a different place, under different circumstances, when the people around her were still alive and she believed that following the plan would be enough to bring everyone home.
The voice continued.
"Additional information will follow."
Mara stared at the radio.
Bennett noticed her reaction.
"Lieutenant?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Then she took a slow breath.
"Sergeant, we need to hear the next transmission before we move."
Bennett studied her face.
"Why?"
Mara looked toward the northern ridge.
"Because I think someone knows exactly where we're going."
And somewhere in the control building, a man who had not expected to hear Mara Ellison's name again watched the exercise feed with growing concern.
The scenario had been designed to test judgment under pressure.
But someone had just introduced a variable that did not belong in the exercise.
And Mara had recognized it.
The radio remained silent for thirty seconds.
To most of Alpha Team, those seconds were merely an inconvenience. They checked their equipment, reviewed the map, and waited for the next instruction.
To Mara, the silence felt like standing at the edge of a memory she had spent years trying to avoid.
The voice on the radio belonged to Major Thomas Rourke.
She had last heard it during Operation Lantern.
Back then, Rourke had been a captain responsible for coordinating a small team operating in unfamiliar territory. He had possessed a calm, measured manner that made people trust him, even when he was asking them to do something dangerous.
Mara had trusted him.
That was the part she remembered most clearly.
Not the confusion, the noise, or the moment the plan collapsed.
She remembered trusting his judgment.
And she remembered the cost.
"Lieutenant," Bennett said quietly, "do you know the controller?"
Mara looked at him.
"I knew someone who sounded like him."
"Someone from your previous unit?"
"Yes."
Bennett waited.
She offered nothing else.
He had begun to understand that pushing Mara for answers only made her withdraw. If the past was going to become relevant to the exercise, he needed to give her a reason to trust him with the information.
"All right," he said. "We'll wait for the transmission."
Grant checked her watch.
"We have about two hours left. If the casualty is on the northern ridge, we need to move soon."
"Agreed," Bennett said. "But we won't rush into an unknown situation."
The radio crackled again.
"Alpha Team, exercise control. The simulated casualty is located near marker seventeen. The individual is unable to move independently. Your task is to locate the casualty, assess the situation, and evacuate to the designated medical point."
Bennett acknowledged the instructions.
"Any additional restrictions?"
A pause.
"Standard safety restrictions apply. You may proceed."
The transmission ended.
Mara examined the map.
"Marker seventeen is close to the route we originally planned to take."
"Yes," Bennett replied.
"But the casualty location is unusually specific. They want us to go there."
"That's generally how these exercises work."
"Not always."
He looked at her.
"What are you suggesting?"
"That we verify the location before committing the entire team."
Reed frowned.
"We just received a direct instruction."
"Which we can follow after confirming that the route is safe."
Bell checked the radio.
"Communications are stable. We can request confirmation."
Bennett nodded.
"Do it."
Bell transmitted a brief request for confirmation of the casualty location and the approved route. The response arrived almost immediately.
"Alpha Team, location confirmed. Proceed to marker seventeen."
Mara's expression remained neutral.
"That was quick," she said.
Bennett folded the map.
"Are you saying we shouldn't go?"
"No. I'm saying we should understand why the scenario is being controlled this way."
Grant looked between them.
"Lieutenant, do you have information the rest of us don't?"
Mara hesitated.
She could have explained everything she knew about Rourke. She could have told them about Operation Lantern, about the conflicting instructions, and about the way a single radio transmission had sent her team toward a location they had been told was safe.
But she didn't know whether the voice was genuinely Rourke's, whether someone was imitating him, or whether the resemblance had simply unsettled her.
She would not burden the team with an unverified suspicion.
"I recognize the voice of the controller," she said. "That's all I can confirm."