Chapter 7 - The Panic in the Ballroom
The moment we crossed the threshold into the service hallway, total chaos erupted inside the country club.
The jazz music had cut off mid-measure. Guests were screaming, ducking beneath tables, or stampeding toward the main exits in a frantic wave of panic. Security guards in ill-fitting blazers were shouting into their radios, their faces slick with sweat as they tried to herd panicked corporate executives and local politicians toward the rear corridors.
Daniel was on his hands and knees near the doorway, picking tiny fragments of glass out of his expensive silk cuffs, his breathing coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
“An assassination attempt?” Daniel stammered, looking up at me with wide, terrified eyes. “What kind of lunatic enemies have you brought to a family event, Maya? They were shooting at us! They were shooting at me!”
“They weren't shooting at your corporate portfolio, Daniel,” I snapped, pulling my father up into a sturdy wooden chair against the wood-paneled wall. My father looked ten years older, his hands trembling violently as he stared down at the wet stain on his shirt.
“Maya...” my father whispered, his voice cracking with a vulnerability I had never heard in my entire life. “Who were those men? What did you get yourself into?”
“I didn't get myself into anything, Dad,” I said, kneeling down so I was eye-level with him. “The logistics network your precious CEO friends run isn't just shipping electronics and machinery overseas. It’s a multi-billion-dollar shadow supply pipeline moving unauthorized ordnance into conflict zones. And my team intercepted the digital ledger that proves it.”
Before my father could reply, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall.
General Marcus Vance appeared around the corner, flanked by two plainclothes military police officers in tactical vests. His face was granite-hard, his eyes instantly locking onto mine.
“Situation report, Sergeant,” the General said sharply.
“Hostile sniper on the annex roof across the ravine, supported by at least one ground asset who just fled toward the service road,” I reported, instantly snapping into a crisp military bearing. “They know we have the data package. They’re trying to eliminate anyone tied to the recovery team.”
May you like
General Vance nodded grimly and turned to one of the MPs. “Lock down the perimeter. Coordinate with Fairfax County PD to seal the access road and sweep the wood line. Nobody leaves this property.”
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