Chapter 5 - The Seal of Command
The small office seemed to shrink as the implications of Colonel Thorne’s official stamp sank into the silence. Vance stared at the crisp blue ink forming the emblem of the base garrison commander, her mind rapidly piecing together the terrifying puzzle. Tyler wasn’t just a rogue bully running a petty extortion ring for french fries; he was the low-level enforcer for an institutional syndicate operating right under the nose of the Pentagon.
"Thorne," Davies whispered, his voice laced with absolute disbelief. "Richard Thorne is due for a star in six months. He’s a West Point golden boy. Why would he risk everything for a ghost payroll?"
"Because he’s not just pocketing cash," Vance said, pulling up a secondary encrypted file from the drive Miller had surrendered. "Look at the shipping codes on these manifests. They aren't just missing boots and rations. They're registering encrypted communication arrays, night-vision optics, and modular assault rifles. Someone is building an independent armory."
Miller shifted uncomfortably near the door, his eyes wide. "Ma'am... last week, during the night patrols out near Sector Four, some of the guys on my squad heard trucks moving through the dry creek bed. Heavy trucks. No lights. When we reported it to Sergeant Tyler, he told us we were hallucinating from heat exhaustion and threatened us with extra duty if we mentioned it again."
Vance stood up, her chair rolling back against the wall with a sharp screech. She reached for her service cap, settling it firmly on her brunette hair.
"Miller, you did the right thing bringing these to us," Vance said, her voice steady and resolute. "From this moment on, you are detached from your regular unit and placed on temporary assignment under my direct command. Don't go back to your barracks. Stay right here in the headquarters building."
"Yes, ma'am," Miller breathed, visibly sagging with relief.
As Miller stepped out into the outer office to wait, Davies grabbed Vance by the sleeve of her uniform. "Martha, be careful. If Thorne is dirty, he controls the base security forces, the gate guards, and the internal communications network. The moment he realizes we have his manifests, he can lock down this entire facility and cut off our link to the outside world."
"He won't have to lock us down," a voice echoed from the open doorway.
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They both spun around. Standing in the entrance was Captain Henderson, flanked by two heavily armed military policemen with their rifles held at a low-ready position. Henderson’s face wore a thin, mocking smile, and in his right hand, he held a direct override order signed by the garrison commander himself.
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