Chapter 6 - THE TRAP CLOSES"Detained?" Briggs barked, his face flushing crimson. "On whose authority? Sterling is an advisor, not a commanding officer!"
"On the authority of the National Security Council executive override," Vance replied bitterly, sliding his phone back into his tactical vest. "Sterling has friends in high places who are panicking because they know Blackwood's arrest is going to blow this entire syndicate wide open. They're trying to neutralize us before we can connect the stolen supply maps to the upcoming Pacific fleet deployment."
I looked down at the challenge coin in my hand, its silver trident catching the fluorescent glare of the command center lights.
"They want me detained?" A cold, dangerous smile spread across my face. "Good. Let them try. If we stay here, we're just targets waiting for a drone strike disguised as an 'accident.' But if we walk right into their briefing room in Washington... we can deliver the proof straight to the only person with more power than Sterling."
"The President," Briggs said, realizing the gambit. "You’re going to walk right into the West Wing."
"Not just walk in," I said, turning to my brother. "We're going to crash their little meeting. Get the Gulfstream ready on the tarmac. We fly out in ten minutes."
"And Blackwood?" Vance asked.
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"Leave him to military justice," I said, pulling my combat jacket tight. "Let him sit in a dark cell and realize that the men and women he thought he was selling out are the ones holding the key to his cage."
By 16:00 hours, the Gulfstream G650 lifted off the Pendleton runway, cutting a steep climb into the golden California sunset. Behind us, the base was quiet again, but the shockwaves of what had happened on that parade ground were already rippling through the highest corridors of power in Washington, D.C.
