Chapter 2 - The Shockwave on the Pier
The word hung between us like a suspended anchor chain.
Gwen’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. Her eyes darted from Master Chief Daugherty’s crisp, unyielding posture to the golden oak leaves gleaming proudly on my collar, and finally down to the silver ribbons and warfare insignia pinned across my chest.
The reality of what she had just done—and who she had just done it to—hit her with the brutal, delayed impact of a depth charge.
“Commander?” Gwen whispered, her voice cracking as the bravado drained out of her, leaving behind a sudden, terrifying vertigo. “No... no, that’s... you’re just... you’re just Corinne. You’re my little sister.”
“Lieutenant Commander Corinne Vance,” Master Chief Daugherty corrected her with a voice like grinding granite, stepping forward to place himself squarely between Gwen and the edge of the pier. “And you, civilian, have just committed a federal offense by intentionally destroying classified government property on a restricted military installation.”
Before Gwen could formulate a response, the heavy thrum of approaching electric engines echoed down the access road.
Two base security patrol vehicles with their emergency lights flashing blue and red rounded the corner, screeching to a halt beside our inspection party. Four armed master-at-arms personnel spilled out of the cruisers, hands resting on their sidearms, their training instantly kicking in as they assessed the perimeter breach.
“Master-at-Arms, Post One reporting,” the lead petty officer called out, marching directly up to me and snapping a sharp salute. “Commander Vance, we received Master Chief Daugherty’s alert. What is the situation?”
I returned the salute crisply, my eyes fixed on the horizon where the bubbles from my submerged briefcase were long gone.
“Petty Officer, this civilian intentionally breached a secured operational zone during an active federal inspection and threw classified government property into the Mayport basin,” I reported, my voice devoid of emotion. “Detain her immediately. Read her her rights, and secure the perimeter. I want the Naval Criminal Investigative Service notified within the hour.”
“Wait—what?!” Gwen shrieked as two burly security officers stepped forward, gently but firmly grabbing her arms and spinning her around to place her hands behind her back. “Corinne, you can’t do this! I’m your sister! It was just a bag! Tell them to let me go!”
She struggled against their grip, her stained catering apron flapping wildly in the wind as they led her toward the back of the security cruiser. She looked back at me over her shoulder, her face twisted in a desperate mixture of fury and sudden, crushing panic.
“Corinne! Stop them! Mom and Dad will hear about this! You can’t arrest your own sister over a stupid bag!”
I didn't flinch. I didn't blink. I simply watched as my sister—who had spent nineteen years trying to reduce my life’s work to a childish game—was pushed into the back of a military police vehicle.
“Secure transport to the base brig for processing,” I instructed the lead master-at-arms. “I’ll be down for the formal statement as soon as harbor patrol recovers the asset.”
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“Understood, Commander,” the petty officer replied, before turning and sealing the cruiser doors.
The vehicle reversed smoothly, its red and blue lights spinning against the grey concrete, and sped away toward the base security headquarters.
