Chapter 7 - The Savannah BriefingThe regional naval command center in Savannah was packed to capacity by 0745 hours.
When I walked through the double doors in my full dress whites, accompanied by Lieutenant Commander Hayes, the room of assembled journalists, defense analysts, and high-ranking admirals stood up as one. Flashbulbs erupted like a thunderstorm, capturing every detail of the uniform, the ribbons, and the quiet composure that had carried me through the darkest sectors of military cyber intelligence.
Admiral Harrison, a stern-faced three-star officer with decades of surface warfare experience, stepped up to the podium and gestured for me to join him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Admiral Harrison announced into the array of microphones. "Today, we are not just recognizing the conclusion of Operation Iron Grid. We are honoring the brilliant tactical mind who engineered the security architecture protecting our entire Pacific fleet."
He unboxed a heavy velvet case, pulled out the Legion of Merit medal, and pinned it securely to my chest.
"Captain Andrea Vance," the Admiral said formally, shaking my hand amid thunderous applause. "Your country owes you a debt of gratitude. And frankly, so does the Navy's intelligence division."
As the cameras flashed and questions shouted from the press pool echoed off the auditorium walls, my phone buzzed quietly in my pocket.
I glanced down discreetly. It was a text message from an unknown local number in my hometown—or rather, a number I hadn't saved in years.
May you like
I'm selling the house, Andrea, the text read. Moving into a small apartment near the VFW post. I want to start over. Let me know when you have time to talk.
I looked up at the flashing lights, the sea of reporters, and the gleaming gold insignia on my shoulder boards. The small town of Georgia was finally waking up to reality, but my world was infinitely larger than their gossip ever could be.
