Chapter 7
The photograph under the manila cover showed more than just a burnt-out chassis in the dust. Elena’s trained eye immediately picked out the telltale scorch marks around the reinforced fuel intake—marks that didn't come from an accidental engine fire or a roadside improvised explosive device. They were the distinct signature of an incendiary thermite charge, placed by someone who knew precisely where the truck’s internal hard drives were mounted.
Vance leaned his weight against the edge of the table, watching her study the details. He had spent twenty years in this sector, and he knew every grain of sand within fifty miles. Nothing moved through these supply lines without his knowledge, yet this particular truck had vanished from the digital ledger for twelve hours before its charred remains were discovered by a routine patrol.
“The driver hasn't been found,” Vance said, his voice dropping into a gravelly register. “Neither has the primary cryptographic module. Official report calls it a local bandit raid. But local bandits don't carry military-grade thermite, and they certainly don't know how to scrub a vehicle’s onboard data bus clean before setting it ablaze.”
Elena traced the edge of the photograph with the tip of her fingernail. The paper was cold, slick with glossy laminate. Her mind raced back to similar incidents three years ago along the eastern border—incidents that had been quietly buried under layers of bureaucratic classification to prevent a broader security panic.
“Who signed off on the initial recovery report?” Elena asked, her eyes fixed on the signature line at the bottom of the summary sheet.
“Captain Hayes,” Vance replied, a slight hardening in his jaw indicating his lack of enthusiasm for the name. “He’s running the northern logistics hub out of Sector 7. Technically, he’s my superior officer on paper, though he spends more time managing procurement contracts than inspecting field operations.”
Elena closed the folder with a soft, decisive slap that echoed in the small room. She looked up at Vance, her dark eyes sharp and focused. “Hayes isn't just managing procurement. If he’s clearing reports on thermite sabotage as local bandit activity, he’s either profoundly incompetent or he’s actively protecting whoever is bleeding this base dry from the inside.”
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Vance crossed his arms, his face locking into a mask of calculated caution. “That’s a dangerous accusation, Lieutenant. Hayes has friends in high places back at the Pentagon. If you start digging into his manifests without solid physical proof, you won't just get sidelined—you’ll find yourself court-martialed for insubordination before the week is out.”
Elena stood up, smoothing the front of her uniform with precise, military precision. “Proof is just a matter of observation, Sergeant. And I’ve never been very good at ignoring what’s right in front of me.”
