Chapter 13 - THE SHADOW OVER CAPITOL HILL
Three days later, the marble corridors of the Hart Senate Office Building in Washington, D.C., were swarming with press crews. The morning papers were screaming headlines across five continents: *DEFENSE TITAN ARRESTED, VIRGINIA SHERIFF’S EMPIRE CRUMBLES, NAVAL CONVOY HERO TO TESTIFY.*
Deputy Norris sat in a wheelchair outside Hearing Room 216, his leg cleanly bandaged, flanked by his wife and young daughter who had been brought into federal protection. He was smiling for the first time since I met him on that rain-slicked highway.
"They're offering me a position with the Federal Marshals Service, Commander," Norris said, his voice brimming with pride. "Once my leg heals. They said they need men who know how to say 'no' to dirty sheriffs."
"You earned it, Norris," I said, shaking his hand firmly. "You proved that the badge is only as honorable as the man wearing it."
Agent Kane walked up, holding a fresh leather folder stamped *TOP SECRET - EYES ONLY*. He looked at my crisp, newly pressed dress white uniform, complete with my formal naval sword hanging at my hip.
"Grand jury returned sixty-two indictments this morning, Commander," Kane said quietly. "Vance rolled completely. He gave up every offshore account, every safehouse, and every kickback recipient. Arthur Sterling’s company is going into federal receivership by noon."
"We did our job," I said, feeling a long-overdue sense of peace settling over my chest. The pain in my shoulder was fading to a dull ache. Justice had held the line.
"Not quite," Kane whispered, his voice suddenly dropping so low that even Norris couldn't hear. He pulled out his encrypted smartphone and tapped the screen, opening a high-resolution surveillance feed.
"What is that?" I asked, frowning.
"Captain Reynolds didn't answer his secure phone twenty minutes ago," Kane murmured, his jaw tight as iron. "We pinged his location. He was supposed to be testifying right behind you today."
The phone’s screen showed a live feed from an underground parking structure just two blocks from the Capitol. A black town car sat with its doors open. On the pavement lay Captain Reynolds’ command cap, stained with fresh, dark blood.
Beside the cap was a single white envelope addressed to me: *COMMANDER GRANT.*
Before I could breathe, my personal cell phone buzzed in my pocket. A blocked caller ID.
I hit accept and pressed the phone to my ear.
"Commander Grant," a deep, unfamiliar voice whispered from the other end. "You cut down the Sheriff, and you cut down the Contractor. But you forgot who writes the military budget. If you walk through those hearing room doors and open your mouth today... Captain Reynolds dies before the gavel drops. Step away from the microphone, Commander. Your six stops were just the beginning."
May you like
The line went dead.
I stood in the marble hallway, the heavy oak doors to the Senate hearing chamber swinging open before me, twenty cameras flashing in my face, and the entire nation waiting for my first word.
