Chapter 10 - The Horizon Ahead
High above the Virginia coastline, the twin-engine Gulfstream C-37 military transport sliced through the heavy storm clouds, breaking into the brilliant, golden sunlight of the upper stratosphere.
Inside the quiet, pressurized cabin, Emma Lawson sat in a leather seat beside the window.
The MacArthur Saber lay securely in its travel case beneath her seat. Her white service cap rested on the mahogany table in front of her. She wore her pristine duty uniform, the silver First Lieutenant bars gleaming on her collar.
General Grant walked down the aisle, holding two small glasses of sparkling water. He placed one in front of her and took the seat across the aisle.
"Rough morning, Lieutenant," Grant said quietly.
Emma turned her gaze away from the window, looking at the man who had been more of a father to her in four years than Richard Lawson had been in twenty-two.
"The rain washes away what doesn't belong, Sir," Emma replied with a faint, genuine smile.
Grant smiled back, taking a sip of his water. "Your father’s firm declared bankruptcy protection an hour ago. When the banks heard about the Norfolk eviction and the contract cancellation, they froze his accounts. Sandra has already contacted a divorce attorney, and Brooke deleted all her social media accounts after the video of the gate incident hit twelve million views."
Emma took a slow sip of water. She felt no triumphant joy. No cruel thrill.
She only felt light. As if a boulder she had been carrying up a mountain since childhood had finally rolled off her back and crashed into the sea below.
"They made their choices, General," Emma said softly. "I’ve made mine."
"And what are your choices, Lieutenant?"
Emma looked out the window. Below them, the thick, gray carpet of storm clouds stretched out toward the Atlantic, but up here, at forty thousand feet, the sky was an endless, radiant sapphire blue.
"To serve," Emma said firmly. "To protect the ones who stand in the rain. And never let someone who doesn't understand the cost of loyalty sit at my table."
General Grant raised his glass slightly. "To the First Captain."
Emma lifted her glass, the crystal clinking softly in the quiet cabin of the jet.
May you like
"To the First Captain."
The jet banked sharply to the north, its silver wings catching the full brilliance of the sun as it surged forward toward Washington, toward her command, and toward a future where she would never be pushed aside again.
