Chapter 2 - Collateral Damage
The silence inside St. Jude’s Chapel was absolute, save for the hum of the ornate crystal chandeliers overhead. Lieutenant Colonel Naomi Price stopped two paces from the altar, her boots clicking in unison with the two military police officers flanking her. She didn't look at my father, nor did she acknowledge the sea of bewildered socialites, corporate executives, and defense lobbyists seated in the pews. Her eyes were fixed strictly on me, awaiting command.
'General Reyes,' Naomi said, her voice crisp and resonant, 'delivery of the final audit and investigative findings as ordered by the Inspector General.' Charles’s breath hitched. He took a half-step forward, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to mask his panic behind an aggressive facade. 'This is a private religious ceremony,' Charles barked, his voice bouncing off the stained-glass windows. 'You have no jurisdiction to disrupt a wedding on private property. Security! Remove these officers immediately!' Not a single private security guard hired by the Whitmore family budged. They had recognized Admiral Mercer standing beside me, and more importantly, they recognized the uniform of the Department of Defense Inspector General.
'The ceremony concluded the moment my father stated he would not walk a damaged bride,' I replied evenly, turning my head slightly so the jagged keloid scars on my neck caught the afternoon light. 'And as for jurisdiction, Father, Whitmore Aeronautics holds over four billion dollars in active federal defense contracts. The Inspector General has full jurisdiction wherever taxpayer funds are funneled into private corruption.' Daniel, standing stunned near the altar, finally found his voice. He looked between me and his future father-in-law, his expression a mix of betrayal and confusion. 'Mara, what is going on?' he asked, his hand reaching out to touch my elbow. 'What file is that? Your father said your scars were from a training accident years ago.'
I looked at Daniel, feeling a sharp pang of sorrow. Daniel was a good man, an intelligence analyst who genuinely loved me, but he had spent his entire life insulated by wealth, blind to the ruthless machinations of the men who built empires on the backs of soldiers. 'My scars are not from a training accident, Daniel,' I said softly. 'They are from an ambush in the Korengal Valley four years ago. An ambush that shouldn't have happened. An ambush caused by faulty encrypted radio components supplied exclusively by Whitmore Aeronautics.' The gasp that rippled through the pews was deafening. Several high-ranking board members of Whitmore Aeronautics sitting in the third row instantly stood up, their faces pale with horror. Charles lunged forward, his face mottled with rage.
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'You ungrateful, treasonous bitch!' he roared, dropping all pretense of civility. 'You are fabricating lies to destroy my company because you couldn't handle real business and ran off to play soldier!' Admiral Mercer stepped squarely into Charles’s path, towering over him by two inches. 'Step back, Mr. Whitmore,' Mercer warned, his voice dropping an octave into a low, menacing rumble. 'You are currently threatening a decorated general of the United States Army in the presence of federal officers. I suggest you keep your hands to yourself unless you want to spend tonight in a military holding cell.' Charles froze, his chest heaving as he glared at Mercer, then at me. Naomi Price stepped forward, offering the gray dossier to me with a crisp salute. I accepted it, breaking the crimson wax seal with a sharp snap that echoed through the silent chapel. 'Let’s open chapter one of your legacy, Father,' I said, drawing out the first stack of classified documents.
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