“YOU’RE JUST A LITTLE GIRL PRETENDING TO BE A SOLDIER.”

By 2000 hours that evening, the storm inside Building 302 had reached nuclear proportions.

Federal investigators from the Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) had sealed off Sergeant Briggs’ office, packing boxes of seized files, hard drives, and stolen tactical gear into the back of marked vans.

In the Base Commander’s office, Admiral James Vance sat behind a heavy oak desk, reviewing the master audit report compiled by Avery.

Across the desk sat Captain Sterling and Avery Mitchell, who sat straight and immaculate in her clean dress whites.

Admiral Vance put down the final page, took off his reading glasses, and rubbed his temples.

“Ninety pages of meticulous forensic accounting, Petty Officer Mitchell,” Vance said, his tone filled with deep respect mixed with utter disbelief. “You tracked a two-hundred-thousand-dollar embezzlement scheme entirely on your off-duty hours while endure relentless harassment from the suspect?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Avery replied firmly. “Protocol dictates that internal corruption must be documented with absolute certainty before triggering an IG intervention to prevent evidence destruction.”

“Why didn't you come to me directly three weeks ago?” Captain Sterling asked.

“Because Briggs had accomplices in the supply depot, Sir,” Avery explained calmly. “If I had raised the alarm early, those files would have been wiped from the local server. I needed him confident. I needed him focused on picking a fight with me so he wouldn't notice the network mirror running on his terminal.”

Admiral Vance let out a low whistle, leaning back in his leather chair. “You used his own arrogance as a blind spot.”

“Arrogance is always a blind spot, Sir,” Avery said.

Vance nodded slowly, a small smile touching his lips. “Sergeant Briggs is facing court-martial under UCMJ Article 121 for larceny, Article 134 for conduct unbecoming, and Article 93 for maltreatment of subordinates. He’s going to Leavenworth for a very long time.”