Chapter 8 - The Hunt for the Hard Drive
By noon, the legal net had snapped shut, but one critical link was still missing.
In the NCIS field office, Special Agent Sarah Miller threw a digital forensics report onto the steel table.
“The micro-drive recovered from Elena’s vehicle was corrupted,” Miller said, her face grim. “Before Cole fired that shotgun blast, Elena initiated an automated wipe protocol. The primary drive is fried. All the digitized banking records from Lenora’s offshore accounts—the proof that ties Lenora directly to the contract hit on your life and the murder of Clara Vance—were routed to a cloud server through an encrypted terminal.”
“Where is the terminal?” I asked.
“It’s not in the boat shed,” Miller said, tapping her tablet. “And it’s not on base. But Elena’s phone records show four encrypted transmissions between 0100 and 0230 to an IP address located in a high-rise penthouse in downtown Wilmington. The property is registered under the name of Brooke Vance.”
I leaned over the map. “Brooke isn't just an abusive bully. She’s the tech conduit.”
“Brooke holds the decryption keys,” Captain Wright confirmed, stepping into the room with an official document bearing the blue seal of a United States District Court. “We just executed an emergency federal seizure order for the Wilmington penthouse. But here’s the problem: Brooke’s high-priced civilian defense attorney, Richard Sterling, just filed an emergency motion claiming Brooke was coerced into entering the military base under duress by her mother.”
“Duress?” I laughed bitterly. “Brooke was the one kicking my ribs while Lenora gave the orders.”
“A civilian magistrate in New Hanover County just granted a temporary release order for Brooke pending a preliminary hearing,” Wright said, his jaw tightening. “The state judge didn't realize the military had primary custody. By the time the paperwork hit the provost marshal’s desk, the county sheriff’s deputies had already transferred Brooke from our holding facility to their custody for processing—and Sterling posted a half-million-dollar cash bond.”
“She’s out?” Cole roared, slamming his fist onto the table. “How the hell did a state magistrate override a federal military hold?”
“Jurisdictional confusion at the boundary line,” Wright said, his voice laced with venom. “Sterling played the system. He knew the handoff window between the PMO and the federal marshal’s transport was fifteen minutes wide. Brooke is in the wind. And our satellite surveillance shows a vehicle registered to her firm just arrived at the Wilmington penthouse.”
“She’s going to destroy the terminal,” I said.
“If that cloud drive is wiped,” Miller said, “we lose the financial trail. Lenora’s lawyers will argue the murder allegations are based solely on the uncorroborated testimony of a dying, brain-damaged cancer patient. We might convict Elena for the burglary, but Lenora walks on the murder charges.”
I grabbed my service cover from the table.
“Staff Sergeant Vance,” Miller said sharply. “You are an active-duty Marine. You have no civilian police powers in downtown Wilmington. If you cross into that city and touch that girl, Sterling will have you behind bars before sunset.”
I turned at the door and looked at the federal agent.
May you like
“I’m not going as a police officer, Agent Miller,” I said, my voice dead and quiet. “I’m going as Clara Vance’s daughter. You have twenty-five minutes before Brooke wipes that drive. I suggest your federal teams drive fast.”
***
