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The silence in the grand courtyard of the Naval Special Warfare Center was heavy, broken only by the distant crashing of the Pacific waves against the Coronado shores. Hundreds of Navy SEALs, high-ranking officers, distinguished guests, and proud families stood frozen. / Chapter 5 / 10

Chapter 5 - The General’s ArrivalBefore anyone could recover from the revelation, the sharp chop of heavy helicopter rotors cut through the sky above the Coronado base.

Everyone instinctively looked up. Two matte-black Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawks bearing no standard military markings—only low-visibility tactical insignias—descended rapidly toward the parade field, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and gravel.

The crowd scattered back in alarm, shielding their faces from the rotor wash.

Evan and his fellow graduates instinctively dropped into defensive postures, while the base security officers reached for their sidearms before recognizing the tactical landing codes flashing from the lead aircraft.

The hatch of the lead helicopter slid open before the skids had even fully touched the concrete. A four-star general, draped in decorations and accompanied by two heavily armed diplomatic security operatives, jumped down with surprising agility.

General Marcus Vance—no relation to the Rear Admiral, but a legendary figure within the Pentagon's Joint Special Operations Command—strode purposefully across the tarmac, his boots kicking up dust.

He didn't look at the graduating SEALs. He didn't look at the Rear Admiral.

His eyes locked directly onto me.

My father’s breath hitched. Even in retirement, a captain knew the weight of a four-star general walking with that specific, dangerous urgency.

General Vance stopped three paces in front of me, pulled off his leather gloves, and snapped a sharp, crisp salute.

"Lieutenant Commander Sinclair," the General’s voice boomed over the dying whine of the helicopter turbines. "Your leave is officially rescinded. We have a Code Red situation in the North Atlantic, and the Joint Chiefs require your tactical unit on-site within four hours."

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"General," I replied, returning the salute with absolute precision. "Give me the coordinates."

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