Night Patrol Anchor

Night set in, and the hallway was clear. I diverted patrol toward the base of the bookshelf. A heavy brass bookend lay overturned on the rug, blocking the low shelf clearance. No detour. I stepped forward, planted my boots against the carpet weave, and squared my shoulders. With both hands braced against the brass curve, I engaged my hip ratchets. One solid shove. Click, grind. The brass weight shifted into an upright wedge, locking into place beside a row of binders. Perimeter secure. Station established.