Chapter 8 - THE CRUCIBLE OF TRUTHI grabbed Gordon’s jacket collar under the freezing water, kicking with all my strength to pull his mouth above the surface. He panicked, grabbing my throat, his fingernails digging into my skin, trying to push me under to save himself.
"Stop fighting me or we both drown!" I shouted, striking his shoulder to break his panic-grip.
I dragged his heavy, shivering body toward the base of the sea wall where Ethan was descending on a tactical harness. Together, we hooked Gordon into a hoist ring and pulled him onto the flat emergency staging area at the foot of the lighthouse.
Gordon lay on his back, coughing up seawater, shivering uncontrollably.
Special agents from NCIS and federal marshals swarmed the beach, weapons drawn, securing the surviving mercenaries who had surrendered above.
Ethan unhooked his harness and ran over to me, wrapping a heavy thermal blanket around my shoulders. "Are you alright, Major?"
"I'm fine," I panted, wiping the salt water from my eyes.
Gordon looked up from the wet concrete, staring at my bare arm where the long scar stood out stark white against my cold skin. He began to laugh—a bitter, broken sound that turned into a violent coughing fit.
"You think you're a hero, don't you?" Gordon wheezed, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you saved everyone tonight?"
"I saved the people who mattered," I said, standing over him.
"You don't know anything!" Gordon spat, blood trailing down his mouth. "You think your mother died keeping secrets about money? You think that key was just for my ledgers?"
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I froze. "What are you talking about?"
"Ask your precious Navy handlers!" Gordon cackled, pointing a trembling finger at Ethan. "Ask them why your real military file was locked under Class-1 Clearance before you even joined ROTC! Ask them who your real father was!"
