{"id":12845,"date":"2026-03-08T08:20:47","date_gmt":"2026-03-08T08:20:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/?p=12845"},"modified":"2026-03-08T08:20:48","modified_gmt":"2026-03-08T08:20:48","slug":"mercenaries-hit-the-seals-cabin-in-the-storm-and-the-german-shepherd-took-a-bullet-grade-hit-to-protect-them","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/?p=12845","title":{"rendered":"Mercenaries Hit the SEAL\u2019s Cabin in the Storm\u2026 and the German Shepherd Took a Bullet-Grade Hit to Protect Them"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The blizzard didn\u2019t look dramatic at first. It looked ordinary for northern Montana\u2014white wind, low visibility, and silence so thick it made the world feel empty. But the SUV that stopped on the shoulder wasn\u2019t there by accident.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Inside, FBI Special Agent Ava Morales<\/strong> fought to keep her eyes open. Her wrists were numb, her tongue tasted like chemicals, and her thoughts came in broken pieces because someone had drugged her. She\u2019d spent three years undercover, living inside violent rooms and smiling at dangerous men, building a case against Grant Merrick<\/strong>\u2014a polished billionaire who ran a trafficking pipeline under the cover of charity galas and luxury resorts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tonight was supposed to be her extraction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, a photo appeared in Merrick\u2019s hand\u2014Ava\u2019s real face, her real badge, her real name\u2014and the music at the resort stopped feeling like music. Merrick didn\u2019t shout. He didn\u2019t need to. His head of security, Silas Webb<\/strong>, grabbed her like she was luggage, shoved a needle into her arm, and whispered, \u201cYou don\u2019t leave people like us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now Ava lay half-dragged into the snow, dumped like evidence Merrick believed the storm would erase.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The SUV drove away without brake lights.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miles up a ridge line, a cabin light flickered behind frosted windows. Logan Pierce<\/strong>, a Navy SEAL on leave, hadn\u2019t slept right since Syria. He carried survivor\u2019s guilt the way others carried keys\u2014always there, always loud when the world went quiet. His German Shepherd, K9 Slate<\/strong>, was older but sharp, scars faint under thick fur, the kind of dog that had learned war and then never truly forgot it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Slate lifted his head suddenly, ears forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t bark. He moved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan grabbed a coat and followed, boots sinking into snow that fought every step. Slate cut through drifts with purposeful urgency, nose low, tail stiff, pulling Logan farther from warmth and deeper into the storm like he\u2019d found a human heartbeat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then Logan saw her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A woman face-down near a ravine, hair frozen to her cheek, lips blue, blood dark against the white. Logan rolled her carefully, found a weak pulse, and started working like muscle memory\u2014clearing airway, checking breathing, fighting hypothermia with hands that didn\u2019t shake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her eyes cracked open for one second.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t\u2026 trust\u2026\u201d she rasped. \u201cMerrick\u2026 tunnels\u2026 girls\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan leaned close. \u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She forced a badge into his palm, the metal cold as the storm. FBI.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her head fell back, and the blizzard swallowed her words. Slate pressed his body against her side, sharing heat like he\u2019d done on cold nights overseas when warmth meant survival.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan lifted her and turned toward the cabin, heart pounding\u2014not from fear, but from understanding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If Merrick dumped an FBI agent out here to die, it meant two things: her evidence was real\u2026 and the people still trapped in those tunnels were running out of time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So how many men were already searching the mountains to make sure she never woke up?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan\u2019s cabin smelled like pine smoke and antiseptic, the kind of place built for solitude, not rescue. He laid Ava on the couch near the stove and worked fast\u2014wet clothes off, skin warmed gradually, heated packs under armpits, careful sips of water once she could swallow. Slate lay pressed against the couch, eyes locked on her face like he was guarding a promise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava woke in fragments. First the sound of wind against glass. Then the crackle of fire. Then Logan\u2019s calm voice counting her breaths the way medics count seconds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ver m\u00e1s<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Montana travel<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ad-free browsing<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

herbal<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere am I?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSafe for the moment,\u201d Logan said. \u201cWho tried to kill you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s eyes sharpened despite exhaustion. \u201cGrant Merrick. Silver Point Resort. He runs a trafficking network under the property.\u201d Her throat tightened. \u201cTunnels. Holding rooms. They move girls through service corridors like inventory.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan\u2019s jaw tightened. \u201cHow many?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava swallowed. \u201cEnough that he doesn\u2019t even learn their names.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She tried to sit up too quickly and winced. Logan steadied her. \u201cStorm\u2019s blocking comms,\u201d he said. \u201cNo cell. Radio\u2019s dead. Roads are buried. Backup won\u2019t get here for a day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s hands trembled. \u201cThen he has a day to erase everything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan didn\u2019t answer immediately. He walked to a cabinet, opened it, and revealed what he\u2019d never expected to use again\u2014medical supplies, restraints, smoke canisters, flash devices, and a rifle case locked with a simple code. He wasn\u2019t looking for war. But war had walked into his cabin anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ver m\u00e1s<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Account login service<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Self defense classes<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marcas de lujo<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before Ava could ask, Slate\u2019s ears snapped toward the window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan killed the lamp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Outside, the wind covered sound, but Slate didn\u2019t need sound. He needed scent. The dog\u2019s growl started low, vibrating through the floorboards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Headlights appeared through the trees\u2014cutting across white trunks like moving knives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s face drained. \u201cThey tracked me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan\u2019s voice stayed steady. \u201cOr they tracked Slate. Working dogs leave patterns. But they didn\u2019t expect me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava tried to stand. Logan stopped her. \u201cYou\u2019re not running out there.\u201d He handed her a pistol, then pointed to the back room. \u201cYou stay behind cover. You speak only if I say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s pride flared, then settled into strategy. \u201cNon-lethal if possible,\u201d she said, even now. \u201cI need witnesses alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan nodded once.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ver m\u00e1s<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Desired username checker<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dog food bowls<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Productivity tracker<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The cabin door handle twisted, slow and confident, like whoever was outside believed the storm made them invisible. A voice called through the wood. \u201cMa\u2019am? We\u2019re Search and Rescue. We got a report of an injured woman.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan almost smiled. Search and Rescue didn\u2019t drive unmarked SUVs and carry rifles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He said nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The door slammed once, testing. Then a second hit\u2014harder. The frame groaned. Slate rose, silent, waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan opened the door suddenly and threw a smoke canister into the snow, letting white haze explode outward like fog. In that second of confusion, Slate launched low, taking the nearest man\u2019s legs out from under him. The attacker hit the ground with a shout, weapon skidding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan moved with controlled violence, disarming the second man and forcing him facedown. He zip-tied both wrists before the man could recover enough to fight. The third man raised a rifle through the smoke\u2014then froze when Ava\u2019s pistol appeared in the doorway, steady as a judge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ver m\u00e1s<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Secure login solution<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Survival gear kits<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wilderness survival courses<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDrop it,\u201d Ava said, voice raw but unwavering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The rifle fell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They dragged the three men inside and secured them in the mudroom. One had a radio earpiece. Another had Merrick\u2019s resort security patch under his coat. The third\u2014young, sweating, terrified\u2014looked like he\u2019d been hired, not loyal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava leaned close and asked, \u201cWho sent you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The young man\u2019s eyes darted to Logan, then to Slate, then to Ava\u2019s badge. He swallowed. \u201cWebb,\u201d he whispered. \u201cSilas Webb. He said\u2026 he said the storm would do the rest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan\u2019s stomach tightened. \u201cHow many more?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The young man\u2019s lips trembled. \u201cTwo trucks. More men. They\u2019re sweeping the ridge. They want her dead before sunrise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava clenched her jaw. \u201cThen sunrise is our deadline.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She forced herself to stand. Pain flashed across her face, but she stayed upright. \u201cThe tunnels,\u201d she said, voice urgent. \u201cThere are women down there. Some are scheduled for transport at dawn. If we wait for backup, they\u2019re gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan looked at the snow-lashed window and weighed the risk like he\u2019d weighed missions overseas. Save one life now, or gamble for many later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe go in,\u201d he decided. \u201cTonight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava nodded, relief and fear colliding. She sketched the resort layout from memory\u2014service hallways, staff elevators, a concealed maintenance door behind the ballroom, and the tunnel entrance marked by a fake electrical panel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey\u2019ll have cameras,\u201d Logan said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTwo blind spots,\u201d Ava replied. \u201cI mapped them. And Silas Webb carries a master keycard.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan glanced toward the mudroom. \u201cThen we just found ourselves a key.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They moved like ghosts across the mountain toward Silver Point Resort, using the blizzard as cover. Slate led, stopping when headlights passed, guiding them through drifts that hid footprints.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the resort perimeter, Ava\u2019s breath caught. The building glowed warm and elegant against the storm\u2014music still playing, wealthy guests still sipping champagne, unaware of the basement beneath their feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They slipped in through the maintenance corridor. Logan disabled a camera at the first blind spot. Ava held the keycard with shaking fingers and swiped it at the fake electrical panel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A click.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wall swung inward, revealing a stairwell dropping into darkness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From below came a sound that didn\u2019t belong in a luxury resort: a muffled sob, then a sharp command in a man\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s eyes filled with rage. \u201cThey\u2019re down there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan nodded once. \u201cQuiet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They descended.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the bottom, two guards turned toward them, surprised\u2014one reaching for his radio. Slate hit first, controlled and fast, dropping the guard\u2019s arm before he could speak. Logan disarmed the second guard and restrained him with zip ties, pressing a finger to his lips. \u201cNot a word,\u201d Logan whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava found the first holding door\u2014metal, cold, locked with a keypad. She punched in a code from memory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The door opened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Three women stared out from the darkness, wrists bruised, eyes wide, mouths half-open like they didn\u2019t trust rescue to be real. One whispered, \u201cPlease\u2026 don\u2019t leave.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava swallowed hard. \u201cWe\u2019re taking you out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Suddenly, alarms blared\u2014one sharp tone that cut through the tunnel like a knife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s eyes snapped to the ceiling. \u201cThat wasn\u2019t me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan turned\u2014and saw a red security light glowing above the corridor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A calm voice echoed from deeper in the tunnels, amused and certain:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAgent Morales\u2026 you should\u2019ve stayed dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silas Webb stepped into view with four armed men behind him, and Grant Merrick\u2019s silhouette appeared just beyond them, smiling like the storm was his witness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan\u2019s body went still, not frozen\u2014ready.
Slate braced low, eyes locked on the nearest gun hands. The rescued women huddled behind Ava, shaking, but moving when she guided them, because fear recognizes authority.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silas Webb\u2019s smile was thin. \u201cYou\u2019re brave,\u201d he told Ava, \u201cbut bravery doesn\u2019t survive bullets.\u201d
Grant Merrick stepped forward, perfectly calm in a tailored coat, as if he\u2019d come to inspect a problem, not commit a crime. \u201cThis is unfortunate,\u201d Merrick said. \u201cYou cost money.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s voice stayed steady. \u201cYou cost lives.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Merrick chuckled. \u201cLives are replaceable.\u201d He nodded at Logan. \u201cAnd you\u2014who are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan didn\u2019t answer with a name. He answered with a plan.
He tossed a flash device down the corridor\u2014not at the women, not into the room\u2014into Webb\u2019s line of sight. The blast didn\u2019t kill anyone, but it stole vision and time. Slate surged forward the moment Logan spoke: \u201cSlate\u2014take.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The dog hit Webb\u2019s lead guard low, dropping him hard and disarming him in a controlled takedown. Logan moved through the stun haze, shoving Merrick backward into the wall before he could reach for his concealed weapon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava used the chaos to move the women out of the holding room and toward the stairwell, counting them like a medic counts casualties. \u201cThree,\u201d she whispered, \u201cstay close, hands on the wall, breathe.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Webb recovered fast\u2014too fast. He\u2019d been in violence long enough to adapt. He fired once toward Ava, the shot cracking against concrete inches from her head. Logan\u2019s chest tightened, but Ava didn\u2019t freeze. She returned fire at Webb\u2019s leg\u2014not to kill, to stop. Webb stumbled, rage replacing his smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Merrick tried to bolt deeper into the tunnel, toward an exit Ava had warned about. Logan grabbed him by the collar and slammed him down. \u201cYou\u2019re not going anywhere,\u201d Logan growled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Webb shouted, \u201cMove them now!\u201d and two guards pushed past the flash haze, trying to cut Ava off from the stairs. Slate intercepted one, Logan grabbed the other, and the tunnel became a tight, brutal chessboard\u2014angles, bodies, and breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava reached the stairs with the women just as another door burst open behind them. More men. Too many. The blizzard outside had slowed everything except Merrick\u2019s private security.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan made a decision he hated but understood. \u201cAva\u2014get them out. Now!\u201d
Ava hesitated for half a heartbeat, then nodded. \u201cDon\u2019t die,\u201d she snapped, because it was the only promise she could offer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pushed the women up the stairs, using the rail for balance, whispering instructions through shaking teeth. Logan stayed behind with Slate, holding the corridor like a dam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Webb rose, limping, face twisted with humiliation. \u201cYou think you\u2019re a hero?\u201d he hissed.
Logan didn\u2019t answer. He was counting shots, counting seconds, waiting for the storm to bring what Ava had prayed for: backup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Above, Ava guided the women through the maintenance corridor. Wealthy guests laughed behind ballroom doors, champagne glasses clinking, unaware that a war was happening under their shoes. Ava got the women outside into the blizzard where the cold was brutal but honest. She led them toward the tree line where Logan had staged an emergency flare kit earlier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She fired a flare into the sky\u2014bright red against white snow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the tunnels, Logan heard the muffled pop and felt hope surge like a heartbeat.
Webb saw it too. His eyes widened, and he screamed, \u201cHe called someone!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan\u2019s jaw clenched. \u201cShe did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Webb charged, desperate now. Slate met him, controlled and fierce, driving Webb backward long enough for Logan to cuff his wrists with a zip-tie and slam him against the wall. Webb spat blood and hate. \u201cMerrick will walk,\u201d he hissed. \u201cHe owns politicians. He owns judges. He owns your future.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan leaned close, voice ice-cold. \u201cNot today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Merrick\u2014still restrained\u2014laughed even with his cheek pressed to concrete. \u201cYou can\u2019t prove anything,\u201d he said. \u201cNo one believes a storm story.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan pointed down the tunnel. \u201cThese cages prove it.\u201d
Merrick\u2019s smile wavered for the first time. The certainty cracked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sound arrived next\u2014rotor blades cutting through the blizzard like a giant saw.
A helicopter descended beyond the resort, lights sweeping the snow. Not Merrick\u2019s. Federal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s gamble paid off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

FBI HRT and local tactical units hit the resort from three sides, using warrants triggered by Ava\u2019s emergency transmission and her prior case file that she\u2019d managed to upload weeks earlier. The storm slowed them, but it didn\u2019t stop them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the tunnels, commands echoed: \u201cFBI! Hands! Now!\u201d
Merrick\u2019s guards dropped weapons one by one when they realized the exit routes were sealed and the building above was crawling with agents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan handed Webb over to tactical officers, then climbed the stairs, lungs burning, to find Ava outside with the three women wrapped in blankets, shaking but alive. Slate limped up behind Logan, a shallow wound on his shoulder bleeding through fur. Ava\u2019s face tightened at the sight, then softened when Slate leaned into Logan\u2019s hand as if to say, Still here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At a secure FBI medical facility, Slate was treated and cleared to recover fully. Logan sat beside the dog\u2019s kennel all night, listening to the steady breathing he\u2019d once heard in tents overseas. Ava sat across from him, wrapped in a blanket, eyes tired but bright.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe got Merrick,\u201d she said quietly.
Logan exhaled. \u201cHe tried to run.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe won\u2019t now,\u201d Ava replied. \u201cBut it\u2019s bigger than him.\u201d She paused. \u201cThere\u2019s a political tie\u2014Senator Howard Cline. We have to move carefully. There are leaks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Logan nodded. \u201cThen we move smart.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava\u2019s boss, SAC Jon Redfield, offered Logan a temporary civilian consultant role. Logan almost refused\u2014old ghosts telling him he didn\u2019t deserve purpose. Then he remembered the women\u2019s eyes in the holding room. The way they whispered, Don\u2019t leave. He couldn\u2019t unhear it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He accepted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The hunt for Merrick\u2019s remaining network led them to a private airfield owned by a shell company tied to the senator\u2019s donors. Ava and Logan moved at night, using surveillance, warrants, and patience instead of luck. Merrick was caught attempting to flee, furious and finally afraid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Slate, still healing, helped subdue an accomplice who tried to rush Ava with a weapon. That moment became the final proof prosecutors needed: not just trafficking, but attempted murder and conspiracy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The trial was national news. Ava testified about three years undercover, the drugging, the blizzard abandonment, and the tunnels. Survivors testified too\u2014especially Ivana Petrova, one of the rescued women, who looked Merrick in the eyes and said, \u201cYou thought we were invisible. We are witnesses.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silas Webb flipped under a plea deal and explained how the \u201caccident\u201d was planned, financed, and protected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The jury convicted Merrick on all 27 counts. The judge sentenced him to 147 years in federal prison. The courtroom didn\u2019t cheer like a movie. Survivors cried quietly, holding hands, because relief is often silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A year later, Ava returned to Montana on purpose\u2014not for a case, but for closure. She met Logan near the ridge where Slate had found her, snow melting into spring mud. Slate trotted ahead, fully healed, tail high.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ava looked at Logan and said softly, \u201cYou saved my life.\u201d
Logan shook his head. \u201cSlate did.\u201d
Ava smiled. \u201cYou both did. And you stayed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They stood there, not pretending darkness vanished, but knowing they had changed the outcome for real people. In the distance, the resort was closed, tunnels sealed, and a survivors\u2019 fund had been launched from seized assets\u2014money turned back toward healing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If this story inspired you, share it, comment your support, and follow for more true rescues and justice stories across America.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The blizzard didn\u2019t look dramatic at first. It looked ordinary for northern Montana\u2014white wind, low visibility, and silence so thick it made the world feel […]<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":12846,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12845","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorised"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12845","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12845"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12845\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12847,"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12845\/revisions\/12847"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/12846"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12845"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12845"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news5.chainityai.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12845"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}