Chapter 16 - The Inspector General's Arrival
The morning sun broke over the horizon at 06:00 sharp, casting a brilliant, golden light across the immaculately lined up rows of Abrams tanks. All twenty vehicles were fueled, inspected, and operating at a hundred percent readiness. The grease stain on the asphalt from the previous day had been scrubbed clean.
At precisely 08:00 hours, a sleek black sedan bearing the plates of the Department of the Army Inspector General rolled through the front gates.
Brigadier General Hayes stepped out of the passenger side, accompanied by two stern-looking colonels carrying thick leather portfolios. Waiting at attention beside the lead tank was Sergeant Major Vance, and standing a few paces ahead was me—my uniform pressed to perfection, my silver oak leaves gleaming in the morning light.
Hayes walked over, his eyes scanning the flawless lineup of heavy armor before resting on my face. He didn't smile, but there was a distinct glint of profound respect in his eyes.
"Good morning, Colonel Ellison," Hayes said formally, stopping two feet away and snapping a crisp salute.
"Good morning, General," I returned the salute without a flinch. "The 1st Battalion is paraded and ready for full-scale tactical inspection. All maintenance logs are verified, and every vehicle is combat-ready."
One of the accompanying IG colonels stepped forward, flipping open a tablet. "We received an anonymous tip late last night, Colonel, suggesting significant logistical failures and active sabotage within this unit. We're here to conduct a comprehensive audit of your motor pool and personnel records."
"You won't find any failures, Colonel," I replied steadily. "You might find a few empty slots where former incompetent leadership used to sit, but the command structure is currently operating at peak efficiency."
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For the next four hours, the inspectors tore through every record, every engine block, every fuel manifest, and every personnel file in the battalion. They interviewed junior officers, questioned enlisted mechanics, and cross-referenced every serial number against the Pentagon database.
I stood by the command tent, watching them work, knowing that the trap Thorne’s allies had set to destroy my career had just blown up entirely in their faces.
