Chapter 5 - The Treasonous Order
The video feed of Admiral Vance completely paralyzed the room.
My commanding officer, the man who had pinned my fourth star onto my collar just two years ago, was actively protecting a treasonous billionaire.
“Sir, what is the meaning of this?” I demanded, stepping closer to the projected image on the wall.
“Richard Whitmore is running an illegal black-ops supply chain, and he threatened a flag officer.”
“I am ordering you to stand down, Claire,” Vance replied, his tone entirely devoid of warmth or hesitation.
“The Whitmore logistics network is a highly classified, off-the-books operation sanctioned directly by my office.”
“We are using his ships to quietly arm rebel factions that Congress refuses to publicly support.”
I stared at the image, the horrifying reality of the situation slamming into me like a physical blow.
The military wasn't investigating Richard Whitmore; they were actively employing him.
And I had just blindly marched two hundred retired Navy SEALs directly into the middle of a massive, illegal government conspiracy.
“You are violating federal law, sir,” I stated, keeping my voice loud enough for everyone in the foyer to hear.
“I will not turn a blind eye to domestic treason, regardless of who issues the order.”
Admiral Vance sighed heavily, looking incredibly disappointed.
“I knew you were going to be a problem, Claire.”
“That is why I sent the warning to your house last night.”
“I was trying to give you a chance to enjoy a peaceful retirement.”
Vance leaned forward in his chair, his eyes locking onto the camera.
“If you do not leave that estate in the next sixty seconds, I will declare you a rogue operative.”
“I will strip you of your rank, revoke your pension, and have you arrested for inciting a military mutiny on domestic soil.”
The video feed cut out abruptly, plunging the foyer back into silence.
Richard Whitmore smiled triumphantly and picked up his satellite phone.
“It seems your prestigious Navy career is officially over, Claire,” my father sneered, stepping forward to pile onto my humiliation.
“You always have to ruin everything with your stubborn, arrogant pride.”
“Now get out of my sight before you drag this family down with you.”
I looked at my father, realizing he would always choose proximity to power over his own flesh and blood.
I turned to look at Jack, expecting him to order his men back to the buses to save them from federal treason charges.
Instead, Jack slowly reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his own cell phone.
“Did you get all that?” Jack asked loudly into the device.
“Loud and clear, Master Chief,” a crisp, professional voice echoed from the phone’s speaker.
Richard’s smug smile completely vanished.
“Who is on that phone?” Richard demanded, taking a nervous step backward.
“That is the primary investigative reporter for the Washington Post, Mr. Whitmore,” Jack announced with a terrifying grin.
“He has been listening to this entire conversation on a live, unencrypted line.”
“And he just recorded the Fleet Admiral admitting to orchestrating an illegal, off-the-books black-ops network on domestic soil.”
The color drained entirely from Richard’s face as he realized his impenetrable shield of federal protection had just been shattered.
“You just committed career suicide, Jack,” I whispered, overwhelmed by his loyalty.
“I was already retired, Admiral,” Jack winked.
“What are they going to do, fire me twice?”
Before Richard could order his remaining guards to attack, the heavy oak doors of the ballroom suddenly burst open.
My niece, Melanie, rushed out into the foyer wearing her magnificent white wedding gown.
She was crying hysterically, her expensive makeup completely ruined.
“Melanie, honey, what is wrong?” Melissa shrieked, running to comfort her daughter.
Melanie ignored her mother completely and ran directly toward Richard Whitmore.
“Where is Julian?” she screamed, grabbing Richard by his tuxedo lapels.
“Julian isn't in his dressing room, and his best man just found his car abandoned at the back gate!”
Richard’s eyes widened in absolute, genuine panic.
“What do you mean he is gone?” Richard roared, shoving Melanie away.
Before anyone could answer, my secure military phone vibrated aggressively in my pocket.
May you like
I pulled it out and saw an encrypted text message from a blocked number.
The message read: “If you want to see the groom alive again, you are going to bring the shipping manifest to the docks.”
