The Distant Nightmare
The ink on the transfer form was still wet when Elias Thorne watched his commanding officer, Colonel Vance, crumple the paper into a tight ball and toss it into the wastebasket. The sound was dry, a sharp snap like a twig breaking under a boot, and it echoed in the small, windowless office that smelled of stale coffee and floor wax. Thorne stood by the desk, his hands clasped behind his back,...
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