“Describe them. Now,” Malcolm commanded, his voice low and authoritative as he clasped his hands behind his back, his posture radiating the full weight of his command.

“Sir!” Harper's voice was sharp and clear, echoing in the tense room. “The tracks... they're boot prints, accompanied by evidence of multiple makeshift campsites. They're scattered across the northern, eastern, and northwestern sectors. We found nothing left behind, no supplies, no personal effects … except for sections of the perimeter fencing that had been torn down. The wires looked like they'd been deliberately cut or pried apart with a sharp tool.”

“No scent at all?” I interjected, a knot of unease tightening in...