PART 6
I returned to the base within twenty minutes.
The investigation room was locked.
Captain Reynolds met me outside.
His expression was grim.
“Tell me.”
He handed me a tablet.
“The unauthorized access occurred at 03:17 this morning.”
“Who was on duty?”
“We're narrowing it down.”
“You said you found the person.”
“We found the terminal.”
I looked at him.
“Whose terminal?”
He hesitated.
“Yours.”
My heart stopped.
“My inspection laptop?”
“Yes.”
“That laptop was in my hotel room.”
“We know.”
I stared at the screen.
Someone had remotely accessed the system using my credentials.
The same credentials that had been used to inspect Brandon's ship.
Suddenly everything became clear.
Someone wanted the investigation to point toward Brandon.
Then, when I arrived, they wanted it to point toward me.
Two family members.
Two sets of credentials.
One carefully constructed trail.
Captain Reynolds lowered his voice.
“General, there's something else.”
He opened another file.
A video.
The footage showed someone entering my hotel room while I was asleep.
The person wore a hood.
Face obscured.
But their height and posture were unmistakable.
I watched the video twice.
Then I noticed something.
The person wasn't carrying a weapon.
They were carrying a folder.
They placed it beside my laptop.
Then they turned toward the camera.
For half a second, their sleeve became visible.
A distinctive patch.
I knew that patch.
It belonged to a private security company contracted by the same civilian organization connected to my father.
I called the admiral.
Within minutes, federal investigators were involved.
The contractor's offices were searched.
Servers were seized.
And the truth began coming apart.
The missing equipment had never been stolen.
It had been moved temporarily for unauthorized testing.
The records were altered to conceal the movement.
The contractor had been creating false readiness reports to make several units appear more efficient than they actually were.
Why?
Money.
Funding.
Contracts.
If the units appeared highly capable, the contractor could justify expanding its role.
But there was a second layer.
The contractor had deliberately used Brandon's credentials because they knew his reputation.
He was the perfect scapegoat.
The loud enlisted sailor.
The favored son.
The man everyone assumed was reckless.
And they knew exactly how to make the story believable.
But then investigators found one final file.
A payment record.
The recipient wasn't Brandon.
It wasn't Dad.
It wasn't even the contractor.
It was a senior official inside the military procurement system.
And the authorization signature belonged to someone I knew personally.
Someone who had congratulated me on my promotions.
Someone who had attended my ceremonies.
Someone who had spent years calling me “a promising officer.”
My former mentor.
General Marcus Hale.
The man who had once told me:
“Your career will go as far as your integrity takes you.”
Now his name was sitting at the center of a corruption investigation.
