Chapter 7 - The Biometric Breach
The gates of Fort Mason loomed ahead, illuminated by harsh halogen floodlights cutting through the falling snow. The military police guard on duty recognized my SUV immediately, snapping a crisp salute as the barrier arm lifted. I rolled past, parking directly outside the command operations building.
The dark sedan that had followed me from the highway drifted past the entrance, its headlights dipping as it turned around toward the visitor lot.
Inside the operations center, the atmosphere was tense. Sergeant Vance looked up from his glowing monitors the moment I pushed open the heavy double doors. He handed me a printed access log before I even unzipped my heavy coat.
“You were right about the bypass, Captain,” Vance said, his face pale under the fluorescent lights. “The terminal didn't use your biometric scan. It used a legacy maintenance override registered to a civilian contractor who signed onto the base network three weeks ago.”
I scanned the printed rows of data. The name listed on the contractor authorization form was familiar, though I hadn't seen it in years.
Julian Vance.
Not the consultant himself—his son, a twenty-eight-year-old systems architect who had spent the last six months consulting on base infrastructure upgrades for the regional supply network.
“He had base access?” I asked, tracing a finger down the column.
“As an external IT auditor,” Vance said grimly. “He had clearance to check the server relays. Which means he had physical access to the hardline terminal right next to yours while you were on duty Christmas Eve.”
My phone buzzed in my hand. It was an incoming text from an unlisted number—not Julian, and not my father.
Captain Mercer. If you look in the secondary staging warehouse at Sector Four, you’ll find the physical cargo manifests that your stepbrother signed before he left for the holiday dinner. They prove he knew about the military diversion all along.
I stared at the screen. Sector Four was the heavy logistics warehouse on the northern edge of the base, half a mile from the main command center.
“Sergeant,” I said, looking up. “Get base security on the horn. I want Sector Four secured immediately.”
“Captain... Sector Four is under civilian maintenance control this week,” Vance cautioned. “With the holiday skeleton crew, the private contractors have jurisdiction over the inventory bays.”
The piece of the puzzle finally locked into place. The federal audit wasn't an accident, and the leak on Christmas Eve wasn't a coincidence. Bryce hadn't just been a pawn manipulated by Celeste and Julian; he had been actively trading military logistics data to Meridian Holdings in exchange for clearing his personal corporate debts.
My phone buzzed again. This time it was Bryce himself.
The call went straight through to voice-to-text, flashing on my screen: Leah, you have to help me. Julian just cleaned out the corporate accounts and left me holding the bag. If the military finds out what was in those Sector Four containers, I’m looking at twenty years in a federal penitentiary.
I looked down at the message, then back at the access logs on the desk. The time for family loyalty had ended the moment they turned my uniform into a shield for their crimes.
May you like
“Vance,” I said, turning toward the door. “Print these logs. Secure a physical copy in the base safe. I’m going to Sector Four.”
---
