Chapter 4 - The Fortress
Fort Sterling wasn't just a military base; it was my turf.
I bypassed my house—knowing Mark would go there—and drove straight through the heavily armed gates of the base, flashing my ID. I brought my mother to my commanding officer’s private quarters, a secure location guarded by Military Police.
Colonel Vance was a hardened veteran who had known me since I was a lieutenant. When I showed him the ledger and the blood on my mother’s face, his expression turned to stone.
"Local law enforcement has been compromised," Vance said, staring at the screen. "This is organized crime operating under the color of law. If you take this to the local DA, they'll bury it, and you'll end up dead in a ditch."
"I know, sir," I said. "I need to contact the FBI Field Office. But I need time to organize the data into an undeniable indictment. And Mark knows I have the drive. He’s going to come for me."
"Let him try," Vance growled. "He steps foot on this base, my MPs will light him up."
But Mark wasn't stupid. He knew he couldn't breach a US Army installation. Instead, he initiated a psychological war.
By noon, my phone was flooded with notifications. Mark had gone to the local press. He was wearing his uniform, looking solemn and heartbroken on the noon news.
"My wife, Major Sarah Hayes, is suffering from severe paranoia and PTSD," Mark lied smoothly to the cameras. "She has abducted her mother, who is in desperate need of psychiatric care. I am pleading with the military to cooperate and return my family safely so they can get the medical help they need."
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My mother watched the broadcast, her hands shaking. "He's spinning it. He's making us the villains."
I closed my laptop, a cold, calculating resolve settling in my bones. "Let him talk. He's digging his own grave."
