Chapter 3 - The Line of Duty
"No, Mr. Secretary," I said, my voice steady and resolute. "I am not recusing myself."
On the other end of the line, there was a brief pause—just long enough for the Secretary to weigh the political and ethical implications of my choice.
"You understand the optics, Megan," the Secretary said, his tone softening slightly, shifting from commander to mentor. "The press is already painting last night as some kind of calculated public humiliation of your family. If you handle an investigation involving your sister, congressional oversight committees will scream bias from the rooftops."
"They will scream bias whether I recuse myself or not," I answered, standing up and walking over to the window to look out over the sprawling limestone courtyards of the Pentagon. "If I step away, it looks like a cover-up of a family scandal. If I manage it with absolute, uncompromising transparency, the data speaks for itself. I didn't reach this office by playing favorites, and I won't start now. Give me forty-eight hours to pull the complete audit trail and conduct a preliminary review of the waiver."
"Very well," the Secretary replied. "Forty-eight hours, Under Secretary. But the moment this touches public media outlets outside the defense trades, it goes straight to the Department of Justice Inspector General. Understood?"
"Understood, sir."
I clicked the phone down and turned back to Hayes, who was reviewing the timeline notes on his tablet.
"Set up a secure video link with the District JAG office at Fort Meade," I instructed. "I want Major Emily Vance on my screen in twenty minutes. Not as my sister. As the investigating officer who signed a forty-million-dollar waiver for a compromised vendor."
Twenty minutes later, the encrypted monitor on my desk flickered to life. The camera angle showed a sterile, fluorescent-lit conference room at Fort Meade. Emily sat at the center of the table, her uniform pressed to razor perfection, her hair pulled back into a tight military bun. But the golden-child radiance from the previous night was entirely gone. Her face was pale, her eyes bloodshot, and her hands were clasped tightly in front of her on the table to hide a slight tremor.
She looked at the screen, and for a fraction of a second, the haughty younger sister who had mocked my administrative role in front of a hundred socialites vanished, replaced by a terrified twenty-seven-year-old officer staring down the barrel of her worst nightmare.
"Megan," she whispered, forgetting military protocol entirely in her shock.
"Major Vance," I corrected her, my tone devoid of any familial warmth. "You are speaking to the Under Secretary of Defense. State your name, rank, and unit for the official record."
Emily swallowed hard, her jaw tightening as the reality of my position crashed down upon her once more.
"Major Emily Vance," she said, her voice shaking slightly before she steadied it. "JAG Corps, assigned to the Third District Procurement Command."
"Major, my office has reviewed the compliance waiver you signed for Sterling Logistics on October twelfth," I said, leaning forward, resting my hands on the edge of the desk. "Our audit shows that an active federal warning flag regarding tax irregularities was transmitted to your department three weeks prior to your authorization. Explain why that flag was bypassed."
Emily stared through the camera lens, her eyes wide with a mixture of betrayal and panic. "I was told... I was advised by command staff that the matter was being handled administratively. The firm had strong backing from local leadership. I was assured the paperwork was a formality."
"In the Department of Defense, Major, there is no such thing as a formality when public funds are on the line," I said sharply. "Who advised you to bypass the warning flag?"
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Emily hesitated, her lips parting as she looked just off-camera, as if someone in her office was silently warning her not to speak.
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