The chair was comfortable, far more so than anything Diego was used to. For the first time his eyes darted around the room, taking it all in and understanding very little of it. It wasn’t decorated like any room he’d been in before. There were three flags hanging on poles behind the sergeant’s desk. Off to the right of the flags there was a single digital photo of a much younger-looking Sergeant Buckholz in some sort of armor. Around him were a group of similarly dres...