Chapter 7: Dawn at the Tribunal
The gray light of dawn broke over the limestone facade of the federal tribunal building in Quantico, cutting through the tail end of the storm. Puddles on the stone steps reflected the pale morning sky as the convoy of black sedans and transport vehicles came to a synchronized halt.
Flashbulbs immediately began to pop from behind the perimeter barricades as news crews, tipped off by an anonymous secure leak, converged on the courtyard. Federal marshals formed a tight security cordon, shielding Richard Sterling as he was led out of the transport with his hands cuffed behind his back. He kept his head down, shielding his face from the blinding glare of camera flashes.
Evelyn stepped out of the trailing vehicle, her royal blue dress striking against the grim stone of the courthouse. She walked with measured, deliberate steps, her chin held high. Miller followed right beside her, the rubber tip of his crutch striking the wet pavement with steady, defiant precision. Admiral Vance walked on her left, his white naval uniform drawing immediate attention from the assembled press corps.
“Colonel Sterling! Colonel Sterling!” a reporter shouted from behind the steel barricades, thrusting a microphone forward. “Is it true you were operating undercover inside Sterling International for a decade?”
Evelyn did not break stride. She did not look at the cameras, nor did she acknowledge the frantic shouting of the journalists. Her focus was entirely on the massive oak doors of the tribunal entrance.
As they mounted the broad stone steps, a senior military police officer snapped to attention and saluted sharply. Vance returned the salute with crisp military precision. Evelyn nodded in quiet acknowledgment.
Passing through the heavy iron-reinforced doors, the chaos of the outside world faded into the hushed, cavernous stillness of the federal courthouse. The marble corridors smelled of polish and old paper, echoing with the quiet footsteps of history being recorded in real-time.
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“The grand jury is already seated in Chamber Three,” Maya reported, materializing beside Evelyn with her tablet ready. “Special Prosecutor Hayes is presiding over the preliminary depositions. The logistics manifests from the Kandahar depot have been entered into evidence as Exhibit A.”
Evelyn stopped outside the frosted glass doors of Chamber Three. She reached into her pocket and touched the cold, sharp edges of the bronze star medallion resting securely in her palm.
