Chapter 5 - The Frame
The fluorescent lights overhead gave a final, desperate stutter and died, plunging the underground lab back into darkness except for the pale, cold glare of the laptop screen.
For three seconds, nobody breathed. The hum of the dying generator wound down to a low, pathetic whine, and then silence reclaimed the bunker.
"That's impossible," I said, my voice dangerously steady. "I haven't touched the Vanguard archives since the tribunal closed twelve years ago. My clearance was restricted to active EOD deployments."
"Was restricted," Marcus corrected softly, tapping the keyboard again. A secondary window popped up on the screen, displaying an access log with a timestamp from four days ago.
User ID: MERRICK_S_CDR.
Terminal Location: Norfolk Naval Base, Terminal 4-B.
Action: Full download of Project Vanguard master schematics.
I stared at the screen as if it were written in a foreign language. Terminal 4-B was located directly inside the secure EOD command center—a room that required my personal CAC card, my six-digit PIN, and a retinal scan to enter.
"Someone spoofed my credentials," I said, though even as the words left my mouth, I knew how thin they sounded. To anyone looking at the digital trail—to NCIS, to the admiralty, to the Department of Justice—it looked like I had gone rogue, digging up classified state secrets to use as leverage against the high command.
"Maybe," David said from the darkness near the door, his voice tight. "Or maybe someone didn't need to spoof anything. Maybe someone cloned your biometric profile during your physical last month at the base medical clinic."
I turned to look at David, the cold reality of what he was implying washing over me. The base medical clinic was run under the direct jurisdiction of Naval Warfare Systems—Admiral Vance's division.
"If the high command thinks I stole those files to blackmail the Admiral," I said slowly, pieces of the puzzle snapping together into a terrifying picture, "then the unexploded mine at Sandbridge wasn't a warning from an enemy. It was a plant. They staged the discovery so that my unit would pull the package, tying my name directly to the recovered evidence before NCIS even opened a case."
Marcus sighed, running a hand over his face. "Which means as of twenty minutes ago, Sarah, an active arrest warrant was issued by the Department of the Navy for theft of classified military property and suspected treason."
The silence in the bunker returned, heavier this time, suffocating.
Outside in the marsh, a distant crack echoed across the flats—the distinct, sharp pop of a heavy-duty gate latch slamming shut, followed by the heavy crunch of gravel under the tires of multiple heavy vehicles rolling up the access road toward the perimeter fence.
Marcus drew his service weapon, his eyes darting toward the steel blast door upstairs. "They didn't wait for morning. They tracked my vehicle's transponder."
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I looked down at the laptop screen, then back at David, my mind racing through our options. We were trapped a hundred feet underground in a sealed military tomb, with a corrupt high command hunting us down, and an arrest warrant carrying my name already broadcasting across every naval base on the East Coast.
"They're not here to arrest us, Marcus," I said, reaching down to rack the slide of my pistol with a sharp, metallic click. "If they wanted a trial, they wouldn't have locked us in the dark. They're here to sanitize the site."
