Previously: A decorated war dog is condemned to death by a callous animal control officer, but a fierce Delta Force veteran intervenes, revealing a heroic past that changes everything.
The Veteran's Fury
Just as the chilling words left Knox's lips, the double doors of the trauma bay slammed open with violent force. A figure strode in with the unmistakable bearing of military authority. It was Grace, her Delta Force combat jacket bearing the marks of countless missions, her stride purposeful despite the absence of one leg. Her advanced, matte-black titanium prosthetic clicked rhythmically against the linoleum floor, a stark contrast to the sterile silence. Knox flinched, his arrogant smirk faltering as Grace’s thunderous voice cut through the tension.
"Take one step toward that dog and you lose that hand," she commanded, her eyes locked on Knox with unwavering intensity. He defensively clutched the syringe, veins bulging in his neck. "Back off, lady," he retorted, mockery lacing his tone. "This vicious beast is county property and he dies today." Grace ignored him, her gaze fixed on the syringe, then on Ares. She reached into her jacket and slammed a tarnished combat collar onto the steel table. A Silver Star medal and Delta Force dog tags gleamed under the harsh light. "That 'beast' took three sniper rounds in Kandahar saving twelve trapped soldiers," she stated, her voice dripping with venom. Knox's face drained of color, his lower lip trembling as the weight of her words, and the evidence of Ares’s heroism, began to sink in.
”
Knox's face drained of color, his lower lip trembling as the weight of her words, and the evidence of Ares’s heroism, began to sink in.
