Chapter 10 - The Interrogation Begins
The secure holding facility in the sub-level of the command center smelled sharply of ozone and bleach. The sterile white walls reflected the harsh glare of overhead LED panels, casting long, stark shadows across the stainless-steel interrogation table. General Sophia Carter sat rigidly in the bolted metal chair, her hands cuffed loosely in front of her, staring down at her own reflection in the polished steel surface.
The heavy steel door clicked open, and General Maya Lindqvist stepped into the room. She was no longer wearing her civilian black jacket; she had donned a crisp, fully buttoned military-issue tunic, her three-star insignia gleaming coldly under the lights. She carried no folders, no tablets, and no notes—only absolute authority.
Maya pulled out the chair opposite Carter and sat down, resting her forearms on the table. She didn't speak immediately. She simply watched Carter with a piercing, analytical gaze, letting the deafening silence of the concrete room weigh down upon the fallen general.
“You look smaller without your ribbons, Sophia,” Maya finally broke the silence, her voice devoid of mockery, carrying only a heavy, profound disappointment.
Carter swallowed hard, keeping her eyes fixed on the table. “You think you’re cleaning the military, Maya. You think by dragging me and Thomas into the light, you’re restoring honor to the uniform.”
“I know I am,” Maya replied evenly.
“You’re wrong,” Carter whispered, slowly lifting her head to meet Maya’s gaze. Her eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with the exhaustion of a woman who had finally realized she spent her entire life fighting the wrong wars. “The corruption goes straight to the top of the Joint Logistics Board. The generals sitting on that board... they don't just siphon funds. They control the promotion tracks, the congressional budgets, and the political appointments. If you try to drag them into the open, they won't just let you investigate. They’ll destroy you.”
Maya didn't blink. A faint, grim smile touched the corner of her mouth. “Let them try.”
“You don't understand,” Carter pressed urgently, leaning forward, the chains rattling against the metal table. “They’ve already buried three internal investigators over the last decade. They write it off as training accidents, heart attacks, pilot errors. You’re standing directly in the crosshairs of a machine that doesn't care about honor, medals, or the Constitution. It only cares about self-preservation.”
Maya reached across the table, her hand resting firmly on top of Carter’s cuffed wrists. The touch was firm, grounding, and entirely unexpected.
“Sophia, twenty-five years ago, we graduated from the academy together,” Maya said softly, her voice dropping the formal, prosecutorial edge. “We swore an oath to protect this country from all enemies, foreign and domestic. I watched you slowly trade that oath for stars, ribbons, and comfort. But right now, sitting in this chair, you have one final chance to choose which side of history you want to be on.”
May you like
Carter stared at Maya’s hand, the tears finally spilling over her lashes, tracking down her hollow cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but before a word could escape, the overhead lights flickered violently and died, plunging the interrogation room into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
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