Chapter 5 - The Crack in the Facade
Brooke’s skin lost every drop of color.
Underneath the heavy foundation and blush, her face turned a sickly, chalky grey. Her fingers began to tremble, and she quickly clasped them together in front of her waist to hide the shake.
“My badge?” she echoed, her voice an octave higher than before. “It’s... it’s in my office. On my desk. In my locked credential drawer.”
“No, it isn't,” one of the CID agents behind Shaw said. He pulled a black tablet from his leather portfolio. “Special Agent Miller, CID. We executed a consent search of your office at Atlas Meridian’s McLean facility forty-five minutes ago, authorized by your corporate vice president, Mr. Callahan. Your safe was open. The credential was missing. And your personal laptop was used to transfer files to an unencrypted commercial cloud server.”
A collective gasp swept through the room.
Marcus Vance instantly stood up, tossed his cloth napkin onto the table, and pulled out his phone. “Brooke, if CID is involved, I’m leaving. Our firm cannot be associated with a compromised bidder.”
“Marcus, wait!” Brooke cried, spinning around, panic finally cracking through her veneer. “It’s a mistake! An IT error! It’s an administrative mix-up!”
“It is not a mix-up, Ms. Reed,” Colonel Shaw said, his voice cutting through the rising panic like a combat blade. “The Iron Gate logistical pipeline involves rapid-deployment medical equipment, ammunition stockpiles, and sensitive communication modules. When a contractor credential goes missing and classified schedules are extracted, we treat it as an active national security incident.”
My father was on his feet now, his face purple with rage. “This is outrageous! Who authorized this circus? I want names! Who is your commanding officer? I will personally call my congressman tomorrow morning and have your commission revoked! You cannot treat honest American business leaders like common criminals!”
Colonel Shaw didn't flinch. He slowly turned his head toward Arthur Reed, his eyes narrowing.
“Sir, the authorization for this inquiry came directly from the Joint Strategic Sustainment Command. And if you attempt to interfere with federal agents in the execution of their duties, I will have you detained alongside your daughter.”
The room held its breath. Arthur’s mouth worked soundlessly, but no words came out. The sheer authority radiating from Shaw was absolute.
Brooke looked wildly around the room, searching for an ally, a friendly face, anyone who could pull her back from the edge of the abyss. Every single guest—the corporate partners she had bragged about, the vendors she had courted, the friends who had cheered for her ten minutes ago—were staring down at their plates or backing slowly toward the coat check.
Then, Brooke’s frantic eyes landed on me.
I was still sitting beside the swinging kitchen doors. Still holding my blank place card. Still wearing my damp navy dress.
Her expression twisted. It was a bizarre, desperate mixture of panic, spite, and frantic calculation. In her warped mind, she needed a scapegoat. She needed someone lower than her to absorb the blow.
“Wait,” Brooke said, pointing a shaking finger directly at my chest. “Wait! Colonel Shaw... if someone breached the system... if someone had access to my materials... it wasn't me! It was her!”
The dining room went completely frozen.
Colonel Shaw paused, his brow furrowing. “Who?”
“My sister! Caroline!” Brooke blurted out, her voice shrieking with manic intensity. “She lives in Alexandria! She works some low-level government clerk job! She’s always been jealous of my success—always! She came to my apartment two nights ago to drop off some mail. She was alone in my study while I was taking a conference call! She must have stolen the badge to ruin my career!”
My mother gasped, catching on to Brooke’s desperate lie like a drowning woman grabbing a razor blade. “Yes! Arthur, remember? Caroline was asking about Brooke’s promotion last week! She asked so many questions about Atlas Meridian!”
“My God,” Arthur breathed, glaring at me with utter contempt. “You miserable, envious creature. You couldn't stand seeing your sister win, could you? You had to steal from her?”
I sat perfectly still.
I didn't blink. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't offer a defense.
I simply looked at my sister, watching thirty-nine years of sibling relationship dissolve into the pathetic, self-serving cowardice of a woman who would throw her own blood into a federal penitentiary just to save her corporate title.
Colonel Shaw looked at Brooke. Then he turned his eyes slowly, deliberately, toward the folding table near the kitchen door.
May you like
For the first time since he entered the room, Gregory Shaw looked directly at me.
***
