Chapter 5 - The Midnight Junction
The knock on the study doors sounded again, heavier this time, accompanied by the distinct metallic click of a security override code being punched into the electronic keypad outside.
King Edward didn't flinch. He pressed a toggle switch on his desk, locking the heavy mahogany doors from the inside. The red LED indicator on the frame glowed a defiant crimson.
"You have approximately sixty seconds before they override the electronic lock with a physical breach charge," Edward said, his voice entirely devoid of panic. He looked from Alexander to me, his gaze lingering on the torn sheet of paper still resting in my hand. "So, Commander Carter, we have reached the crux of the matter. The federal agents outside want blood, your sister wants a savior, and the crown wants its ledger balanced."
"And what do you want, Your Majesty?" I asked, my grip tightening on the pen.
"I want survival," Edward replied simply. "And you, as it turns out, are the only variable that neither my legal team nor your sister anticipated. You hold the master encryption key to your naval field terminal—a key that the DOJ cannot legally decrypt without your biometric authorization, even with a warrant, due to military intelligence protections."
I stared at him, my mind racing through the tactical implications. "My biometric key is tied to my active-duty service profile. If I authorize the local decryption protocol to isolate my classified files from the fraudulent trust data, the system will automatically quarantine the entire server."
"And in doing so," Alexander added, his eyes lighting up with sudden understanding, "it will lock the DOJ out of the financial records entirely, buying us forty-eight hours to legally restructure the trust under diplomatic immunity before they can serve a revised warrant."
"At the cost," I pointed out, "of making myself an active participant in an international cover-up. The moment I execute that quarantine from my terminal, the Navy’s Judge Advocate General's Corps will know I used an active service node to block a federal investigation."
Rachel scrambled to her feet, leaning against the edge of the desk, her bridal veil dragging in the dust. "Emily, please," she whispered, her voice desperate. "If you do it—if you help us—I'll sign over every cent of the private settlement I received from the estate. I'll walk away from the title, from the marriage, from all of it. I'll give you everything."
I looked at her—at the woman who had spent years treating me like an embarrassment, who had tried to erase me from her life because my ordinary, honorable reality didn't fit the glittering fantasy she wanted to buy.
"Keep your money, Rachel," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I don't want your settlements. And I certainly don't want your apologies."
I pulled my service tablet from the tactical pouch inside my uniform jacket, powered it on with a sharp tap of my thumb, and entered my encrypted military credentials. The screen glowed a sharp, brilliant blue in the dim light of the study, casting long shadows across the king's desk.
Outside the door, the heavy thud of a breaching tool struck the wood. A voice shouted a final warning.
"Stand back! Breach in three, two—"
"Do it, Commander," King Edward said quietly.
May you like
I pressed my thumb against the biometric sensor on the side of the tablet and executed the master quarantine command.
A sharp, high-pitched alarm wailed from the study's security console as the entire digital network of the estate blinked offline, plunging the room into sudden, absolute darkness—just as the heavy oak doors splintered inward.
