Chapter 4 - The Flight from the Base
The cold night air hit Caroline like a physical blow as she burst out of the archives building and into the parking lot. Her staff car, a standard-issue sedan with her driver waiting quietly by the curb, sat idling under a security light.
"Get in," Caroline ordered, pulling the passenger door open before the private could even step out to salute. "Gate 3, now."
The young driver, startled by the sharp command, threw the car into gear and surged forward, tires crunching over the gravel before gripping the asphalt. The base layout blurred past—hangars, fuel depots, and rows of parked transport aircraft casting long, skeletal shadows under the amber floodlights.
As they approached the secondary perimeter gate at the southern edge of the installation, Caroline saw the flashing red and blue lights of military police cruisers forming a barricade across the road. A civilian sedan—Glenn’s rental car—was wedged sideways against the concrete security barrier, its engine smoking lightly from a radiator puncture.
The driver slammed on the brakes, and Caroline was out of the car before it had fully stopped.
Two military police officers were standing by the driver’s side of Glenn’s car, their hands resting near their holsters, while Glenn stood outside with his hands cuffed behind his back, arguing furiously with a sergeant.
"I am a civilian!" Glenn shouted, his voice cracking with panic as Caroline approached. "You have no right to detain me! I was just leaving the hotel to get some air, and your trigger-happy guards started screaming at me!"
"Shut your mouth, Glenn," Caroline said coldly as she stepped into the circle of light.
The MP sergeant turned, snapping a crisp salute. "General Vance. Apologies for the commotion, ma'am. We received an automated sensor alert on the perimeter fence near Sector 4, and this vehicle was spotted accelerating away from the back access road of the secure housing annex without clearance."
Caroline looked past the police officers toward the dark line of the treeline beyond the perimeter fence. The access road led directly to the old communications bunker—a derelict facility left over from the Cold War that was supposed to be completely sealed.
"Were you at the bunker, Glenn?" she asked, her voice dropping into a register so quiet that even the MPs stepped back a half-step.
Glenn stopped struggling against the cuffs. His face was pale, sweat glistening on his forehead despite the chilly autumn air. "I didn't do anything, Caroline. I went for a drive. I got lost. The GPS on my phone went dead."
"Your GPS doesn't override base security gates, Mr. Vance," the sergeant said flatly. "And you didn't get lost. You were carrying a briefcase containing three decrypted hard drives that were just flagged by the base’s electronic counter-surveillance system."
Caroline’s gaze sharpened. "A briefcase?"
The sergeant motioned to an evidence bag resting on the hood of the cruiser. Inside was a scarred leather briefcase—one that had belonged to their father.
"We found it on the front passenger seat," the sergeant said, opening the bag slightly to reveal the contents. "It’s not just old family papers in there, General. These are active encrypted financial ledgers connecting several current defense procurement contracts to offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. And the digital key used to unlock them matches the personal signature profile you just pulled from the archives."
Glenn looked down at the gravel, his shoulders slumping in total defeat. The arrogant half-smile he had worn at the front gate that morning was gone, replaced by something much darker and more fragile.
"I didn't want to bring them, Caroline," Glenn muttered, his voice trembling. "They told me if I didn't bring the physical files to the drop point tonight, the pension audit would go through. They were going to strip Dad's honors posthumously. They were going to take everything."
"Who is 'they,' Glenn?" Caroline demanded, stepping closer.
May you like
Before Glenn could answer, a piercing screech tore through the night air—a high-pitched electronic tone that simultaneously echoed from every security console, patrol radio, and mobile phone within a half-mile radius.
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