Chapter 10 - Dawn at Coronado
The deafening roar of automatic gunfire inside the cramped control shack shattered the night air, sending sparks flying off the steel bulkheads as bullets chewed through computer monitors and server banks.
I rolled hard to the left, coming up against the edge of the control console, and brought my weapon up just as Marcus lunged blindly toward the door.
Click.
My slide locked back. Empty.
Before Marcus could reach the threshold, a heavy tackle from General Vance sent both brothers crashing hard onto the steel deck. General Vance pinned Marcus with a knee to his chest, wresting the satellite phone from his hand and smashing it against the floorboards with a single, furious stomp.
Across the room, Eric lay pinned by a pair of heavy zip-ties that Sarah—who had miraculously sprinted up the gangway behind General Vance—had looped around his wrists with ruthless efficiency.
The console monitors flickered, the progress bars hitting one hundred percent before suddenly throwing a bright red error screen: Connection Terminated. Uplink Severed.
The data transfer had been interrupted with less than two percent remaining. The audit logs were safe. The conspiracy was exposed.
Silence descended upon the smoking, bullet-riddled control shack, broken only by the heavy, ragged breathing of the men lying on the floor.
General Vance stood up slowly, looking down at his brother with eyes that seemed to have aged ten years in the span of ten minutes. He didn't say a word. He simply reached to his collar, unclipped his radio, and hailed base security.
“This is General Vance. Secure Pier Four. Arrest all personnel associated with Apex Maritime. The logistics division has fallen.”
Within minutes, the wailing sirens of military police cruisers and tactical transport boats flooded the slipway, their red and blue lights painting the dark water in flashing ribbons.
As the sun began to crest the horizon over the California coastline, casting a brilliant, golden morning light across the Naval Amphibious Base Coronado, I walked down the gangway of the freighter.
My lip was still slightly swollen from where Brock Sullivan had struck me less than twenty-four hours earlier. The small drop of dried blood on the toe of my combat boot was still there, a quiet reminder of where this entire battle had begun.
General Vance stepped up beside me, watching as Marcus and Eric were hauled away in separate transport vans, their heads bowed in defeat.
“What happens now, Captain?” Vance asked quietly, staring out at the open Pacific.
May you like
I zipped up my black leather folder, securing the newly downloaded master evidence drive inside.
“Now, General,” I said, turning my gaze toward the horizon as the morning breeze caught the American flag snapping proudly above the parade field. “We start at the Pentagon.”
