Chapter 8 - New Horizons
Two weeks later.
The autumn air outside the CID Directorate in Quantico, Virginia, was brilliant with amber and gold. Ava Mercer walked through the glass-and-steel lobby of the headquarters building, carrying a leather briefcase.
On the lapel of her tailored navy suit, the newly pinned golden oak leaf of a Major caught the sunlight.
Her promotion had been signed directly by the Secretary of the Army. Along with the rank came a new assignment: Ava was appointed the Director of the Special Anti-Corruption Task Force, an elite unit created specifically to root out black-market trafficking and systemic abuse of power across all domestic military installations.
She took the elevator up to the fourth floor and walked into a corner office that looked out over the rolling Virginia hills.
Sitting on the couch inside her office was Master Sergeant Brody. His arm was out of the sling, resting comfortably on his lap, and he was sipping tea from a mug that read *WORLD'S TOUGHEST BOSS.*
"You're in my chair, Brody," Ava said, setting her briefcase on the mahogany desk.
"Your chair is behind the desk, Major," Brody grinned, standing up and testing his shoulder with a gentle rotation. "Looks good on you. The brass suit, I mean."
"How's the collarbone?"
"Doctor cleared me for full duty yesterday. Said I’m too stubborn to heal slow." Brody tossed a file onto her desk. "Sentencing came down this morning from Leavenworth."
Ava sat down, opening the folder. "And?"
"Ryan Cole got twenty-five years at hard labor without the possibility of parole. Dishonorable discharge. Complete forfeiture of all pay and benefits. Hayes got thirty years. Higgins took a plea deal—ten years at Fort Leavenworth for cooperating with the prosecution."
Ava read the official document, feeling a deep, profound sense of closure settle over her chest. The system had worked. It had taken months of dangerous undercover work, a broken car, and a face full of food in a crowded dining hall, but justice had arrived with absolute finality.
"What about the stolen gear?" Ava asked.
"Recovered," Brody said. "Every single crate from Hangar Four has been returned to inventory. The Mexican authorities arrested Viktor Ramos at a safehouse outside Monterrey forty-eight hours ago based on the coordinates you pulled from Hayes’s burner phone."
Ava closed the folder, setting it aside.
She looked at the small framed photograph sitting on her desk. It was a picture of her grandfather, a decorated Korean War veteran who had taught her to shoot, taught her to ride, and taught her that a badge was only as honorable as the person wearing it.
*“If you see a bully in uniform, Ava,”* the old man had told her when she was ten years old, *“you take him down. Because a bully with a weapon is nothing more than a coward with an excuse.”*
"We have our first official briefing in ten minutes, Boss," Brody said, checking his watch. "The new team is assembled in Conference Room C. Six investigators, all top of their class, ready to roll."
Ava stood up, smoothed her jacket, and pinned her silver CID badge securely to her lapel.
May you like
"Let's go meet them," she said.
***
