The brass handle of the gun cabinet was cold against my palm.

Within forty-eight hours of Zachary Albright’s arrest in the basement of Aegis Global Security, the multi-million-dollar empire he had spent a decade assembling collapsed under its own rotten foundation.

On Thursday morning, the Department of Defense announced the immediate, indefinite suspension of all federal contracts held by Aegis Global Security, citing "catastrophic failures of operational security and unauthorized exfiltration of classified defense assets."

The company’s stock, traded on the NASDAQ under the ticker AEGS, plummeted eighty-four percent before trading was permanently halted by the Securities and Exchange Commission.

At the federal courthouse on Ohio Street in downtown Indianapolis, Chief Judge Robert Morrison presided over Albright’s detention hearing.

The courtroom was packed to the gallery doors: corporate reporters, federal prosecutors, defense attorneys, and uniformed military personnel.

I sat in the front row of the gallery, wearing my dress blue uniform—the first time I had worn my medals, my combat infantryman badge, and my colonel’s eagles since my retirement ceremony three years earlier. Beside me sat Hannah, dressed in a modest navy wool dress, her left arm supported in a sling, her bruised cheekbone healing under the care of specialist physicians.

Zachary Albright sat at the defense table, wearing an orange Marion County jail jumpsuit, his ankles shackled together with heavy steel chain. Without his tailored suits, his salon haircuts, and his entourage of PR handlers, he looked small, gaunt, and entirely withered.

Assistant U.S. Attorney David Vance stood at the lectern, presenting the federal government’s detention memorandum.

"Your Honor," Vance said, his voice echoing off the high mahogany walls. "The government submits that the defendant represents an extraordinary flight risk and an active, lethal danger to the community. In the course of executing the federal search warrant, investigators uncovered evidence that the defendant maintained an offshore holding company in the Cayman Islands containing over twelve million dollars in liquid capital, as well as a private aviation charter account under an assumed identity."

Judge Morrison peered over his half-moon glasses at Albright’s defense team. "Mr. Vance, does the defense have a proposed package for pretrial release?"

Marcus Vance stood up, looking exhausted and profoundly uncomfortable. "Your Honor, my client is prepared to surrender all travel documents, submit to 24-hour electronic location monitoring, and post his personal residential estate in Carmel as collateral for a five-million-dollar bond."

"The residential estate in Carmel?" Judge Morrison asked, his tone deceptively mild.

The judge reached into a thick manila folder and pulled out a signed order from the Hamilton County Probate Court.

"Mr. Vance," Judge Morrison continued, "it appears your client no longer holds sole title to that property. Yesterday afternoon, Judge Carolyn Ross of the Hamilton County Family Court approved an emergency partition and preliminary marital asset freeze. The Carmel estate has been placed into receivership to secure restitution and medical damages for the victim, Hannah Montgomery."

Zachary’s head jerked upward, his eyes bulging as he glared across the aisle at Hannah.

"She can't do that!" Zachary hissed, his voice carrying to the bench before his attorney could pull him down. "That house was purchased with corporate distributions! She never contributed a dime!"

Judge Morrison brought his wooden gavel down with a sharp, resonant crack that silenced the room instantly.

"Mr. Albright," Judge Morrison said, his voice dropping into a register of icy, judicial severity. "You are in a federal courtroom, not your corporate boardroom. One more outburst and I will have the marshals gag you for the remainder of this proceeding."

The judge removed his glasses and looked down at the orange-clad defendant.

"I have reviewed the audio recordings recovered from the server room," Judge Morrison stated. "I have reviewed the clinical reports from St. Vincent Hospital detailing six years of systematic, brutal physical violence and psychological torture inflicted upon a defenseless human being. A man who uses military-grade cyber surveillance to terrorize his own spouse while mishandling national defense secrets is not a candidate for pretrial release."

The judge raised his pen.

"The defendant is remanded to the custody of the United States Marshals Service without bail, to be held at the Federal Correctional Institution in Terre Haute pending trial. We are adjourned."

As the marshals took Zachary by the elbows and led him through the heavy oak door toward the holding cells, the chains around his ankles clinked against the linoleum floor.

Hannah did not look away. She watched the door close behind him, took a slow, deep breath that filled her healing lungs, and squeezed my hand.