THE IRON CURRENTS

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2026-06-14 00:50:30 -

THE IRON CURRENTS

The briefing room smelled of stale coffee and stale ambition. Captain Jack Moran sat in the third row of folding chairs, his navy uniform pressed to crisp military standards that he knew no one else in the room was even trying to meet. At thirty-four, Jack was young for a captain but old enough to have learned that youth in the military meant two things: you were useful, and you were...

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