Chapter 6 - The Corporate Shield
The briefing room grew so quiet you could hear the hum of the secure communications servers running behind the reinforced walls.
I stared down at the document on the steel table. The corporate seal of Brooks Strategic Consulting & Logistics stared back at me in crisp, black ink.
“Alan’s firm?” Ryan muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “Wait. Alan is a civilian consultant. He does municipal zoning and small-business tax advising. How on earth would his company touch a classified naval supply routing node?”
Captain Vance crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of the table. “On paper, yes. He does local zoning. But three months ago, Alan Brooks secured a lucrative sub-tier subcontract through a defense contractor shell company. He was supposed to be auditing civilian warehouse inventories near the Great Lakes naval depot.”
“Auditing,” I said, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. “Or probing.”
“Exactly,” Vance nodded. “Our naval cyber-command detected an unauthorized data-scraping script running from an IP address tied directly to his primary office router. The script was downloading real-time munitions tracking data and fuel-tanker transit schedules—classified information that violates federal espionage statutes and puts thousands of active-duty sailors at risk.”
Ryan looked sick. “That’s treason. Or gross corporate espionage at the very least. If the Department of Justice gets wind of this before we contain the leak, his entire company—and everyone tied to it—goes down in flames.”
Including Lily.
The thought hit me like a physical blow. Lily’s wedding was tomorrow morning. Her new husband was a rising Navy officer whose career vetting would be permanently tainted if his new father-in-law was arrested for federal security breaches on the eve of the ceremony.
My mother’s social standing, Alan’s wealth, the entire lavish country club wedding they had spent a year bragging about—it was all built on a house of cards resting on stolen military data.
“Where is Alan right now?” I asked, my voice dropping into its command cadence.
“According to our surveillance assets, he left the country club ten minutes after you did,” Vance replied. “He’s currently heading back to his suburban estate in Winnetka to shred physical hard drives before federal marshals execute the search warrant.”
I looked at my watch. It was 11:45 PM.
“Give me twenty minutes,” I said, turning toward the door.
“Nora, what are you going to do?” Ryan asked, stepping into my path. “You can’t just walk into his house and confront him without federal jurisdiction. If you tip him off, he’ll destroy the evidence.”
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“I’m not going to tip him off,” I said, my eyes cold and steady. “I’m going to conduct a formal inspection of civilian assets operating under defense subcontracts, authorized under emergency wartime logistics statutes. And I’m going to do it wearing my uniform.”
Ryan stared at me for a single heartbeat, then nodded firmly. “I’m coming with you.”
