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“Anything?” Mariam asked.

Then: “…Understood, Sergeant. Hold and observe.” kampi kadakal

At 3:47 AM, Nuru whispered over the radio: “Movement. South ridge. Five, maybe six. They’re carrying something long—pipes? No. A stretcher.” “Anything

“Movement at 2 AM. Thermal caught three, maybe four, coming up from the wadi. They stopped at the stone, stayed ten minutes, then turned back.” “Anything?” Mariam asked. Then: “…Understood

The kadakal stood at the intersection of three dry riverbeds. From here, you could see into two countries and one contested strip of land that belonged to no map. The grass around it had been trampled recently. Mariam knelt. Boot prints. Not military—thin-soled, the kind villagers wore. But also a single heavy tread, maybe a boot with a repaired heel.