Chapter 12 - The Quiet Ride
A black staff sedan was idling at the curb outside the hotel entrance, assigned by regional command to pick me up following the evening's events.
The driver, a young master sergeant in dress blues, immediately hopped out of the vehicle and opened the rear door for me, his eyes catching the twin silver stars on my epaulets.
“Good evening, General,” he said sharply, saluting.
“At ease, Sergeant,” I replied, stepping into the cool leather interior of the car. “Let’s head back to the airfield.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
As the sedan pulled away from the curb and merged into the shimmering night traffic of the city, I rested my head against the seat back and let out a long, grounding breath. The adrenaline that had carried me through the ballroom confrontation was slowly ebbing away, replaced by a profound, unshakeable peace.
For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like I had to shrink myself to fit into someone else’s expectations. I had built a career on strategy, discipline, and absolute integrity—qualities my family had dismissed simply because they didn't come wrapped in corporate buzzwords or loud boasts.
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My phone flashed silently on the seat beside me, registering a blocked incoming call from my father's landline. I ignored it, watching the city lights blur into streaks of gold and red against the window.
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