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... he commander of Iron Dragon Fortress—Ironwall Garson!
He was still wearing that crisp black-and-gold uniform, and the black eyepatch over his left eye gleamed with a cold, hard sheen in the torchlight.
But the steady composure he usually carried was gone. In its place was a tightly suppressed heaviness.
Close behind him came Tommy, commander of the Second Battalion—a brown-haired, middle-aged man whose jaw was clenched so tightly it looked carved from stone, his hand neve ...
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