Chapter 3 - THE GRAYWATER SCARS
Admiral Reed ordered the ballroom doors closed.
Warren security guards hesitated.
They looked toward Arthur for instructions.
Celeste noticed the hesitation immediately.
The guards were not loyal to Arthur anymore.
Their eyes repeatedly moved toward Julian.
That detail confirmed one of her suspicions.
Julian had already taken control of the company’s internal security.
“Open those doors,” Julian ordered.
No one moved.
Reed displayed a federal authorization card.
“This property is now part of an active military investigation.”
“You can’t imprison two hundred guests,” Vivian snapped.
“No one is imprisoned,” Celeste said.
“They’re witnesses.”
The word struck Vivian like a slap.
Celeste moved toward the center of the ballroom.
Reed’s jacket covered most of her scars, but she allowed one burned shoulder to remain visible.
For eleven years, she had hidden the marks to make other people comfortable.
She was finished doing that.
“The Valor received new navigation modules forty-eight hours before its final mission,” Celeste said.
“The modules carried Warren Strategic serial numbers.”
Arthur’s hands trembled.
Julian remained still.
“The ship changed course without authorization,” Celeste continued.
“It entered restricted waters where three armed vessels were waiting.”
A retired senator among the guests slowly lowered his champagne glass.
“You’re describing an ambush,” he said.
“Yes.”
“And you believe Warren equipment caused it?”
“I know Warren equipment caused it.”
Arthur stepped forward.
“Our company cooperated with every investigation.”
“You gave investigators falsified inspection reports,” Celeste replied.
“You destroyed manufacturing records.”
“That is a lie.”
Celeste removed a scorched metal tag from a chain around her neck.
The tag was no larger than a coin.
Part of a serial number remained visible.
“I cut this from the navigation compartment before the fire reached the bridge.”
Julian’s eyes fixed on the metal.
For the first time, his confidence cracked.
Celeste saw it.
So did Admiral Reed.
“The official recovery team never found that component,” Julian said carefully.
“No,” Celeste replied.
“Because I did.”
Vivian looked at her husband.
The glance lasted only a second.
It was enough.
Vivian had not known about the metal tag.
She had known other things.
Celeste turned toward her.
“You tore my dress because Julian told you to provoke me.”
Vivian’s lips parted.
“He wanted to know whether I had returned as a frightened daughter or a trained officer.”
Celeste stepped closer.
“You have your answer.”
At that moment, every light in the ballroom went dark.
A woman screamed.
May you like
Glass shattered.
Then Celeste heard the unmistakable click of a handgun being prepared behind her.
