"Boss Alvez," Dennis replied promptly, invoking a name he had overheard earlier among the rebels.
"He's coordinating the response to the attack. You're needed elsewhere."
The mention of Alvez seemed to tip the balance. Nodding reluctantly, the guards vacated their posts, leaving Dennis alone outside the suspicious tent.
Without waiting a second longer, he slipped inside, the flap closing silently behind him.
The sight that greeted him was one he had not anticipated.
In the dim light of the tent, a man in a military uniform was bound and gagged, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and shock.
The uniform was like those worn by the operatives of Shelter 335.
Dennis's eyes narrowed as he moved swiftly, the face of the captive triggering a flicker of recognition — it was Enrique, the very man whose image had been imprinted in his memory thanks to the briefing photos provided by the commander.
