Chapter 6 - The Evidence They Tried to Destroy|
The emergency alarm continued screaming as security personnel hurried through the headquarters building.
Red warning lights flashed above the doors.
A technician appeared in the conference room and announced that the base training network had experienced an unauthorized deletion attempt.
Whitaker immediately ordered the affected systems isolated.
Ortiz dispatched investigators to the communications center.
Vale began talking about routine software maintenance.
I barely heard him.
My attention remained fixed on the white service van outside.
It was moving toward the east gate.
I pointed through the window.
“That vehicle needs to be stopped.”
Whitaker turned.
“Why?”
“Because Vale received a message seconds before the network went down.”
The colonel's face reddened.
“That is an outrageous accusation.”
Ortiz stepped closer.
“Colonel, nobody accused you of anything yet.”
She raised her radio.
“Security, locate the white maintenance van departing headquarters and verify its authorization.”
Vale folded his arms.
“You're disrupting an active military installation based on a civilian's speculation.”
I looked at him.
“You've spent eight years calling me unstable.”
“You can survive five minutes of being questioned.”
Minutes later, security reported that the van had been stopped near a restricted service road.
The driver possessed a temporary contractor badge registered to Northstar Tactical Systems.
He was carrying company equipment scheduled for removal from the installation.
There was no documentation authorizing the removal.
Ortiz ordered the equipment secured pending examination.
Vale said nothing.
Meanwhile, Price arrived with a technician from the training center.
The young sergeant looked exhausted.
But his expression had changed.
He was frightened, certainly.
Yet something stronger than fear had begun to show through.
Determination.
“Ma'am,” he told Ortiz, “I think I found why the records disappeared.”
The technician explained that the primary training system stored information through a contractor-managed service.
The deletion attempt had affected records accessible through that service.
However, Camp Redstone maintained a separate safety monitoring archive.
Its recordings were not part of the contractor's normal equipment package.
The archive had continued operating.
Ortiz looked at Price.
“Are you saying the evidence still exists?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Price placed a secure storage device on the table.
“With the proper authorization, the safety office made a preserved copy.”
Whitaker's shoulders relaxed slightly.
Vale's did not.
The investigators opened the archive.
First came the morning footage.
The wider camera angle showed Rourke approaching me.
It showed him grabbing my sleeve.
It showed me warning him before defending myself.
Most importantly, it showed my immediate compliance when the MPs ordered me to release him.
Rourke stood motionless as his earlier statement unraveled in front of everyone.
Ortiz paused the recording.
“Captain, would you like to correct your account?”
His face was pale.
He looked at Vale.
Then at Whitaker.
Finally, he lowered his eyes.
“Yes, ma'am.”
The words seemed to cost him more than the physical takedown had.
Ortiz made a note.
But the recording was only the beginning.
Price opened another preserved file.
A training system report appeared.
It displayed the planned exercise route, the altered version, and the moment the change was accepted.
The modification had been made before the soldiers entered the field.
The approval appeared to originate from an administrative account associated with Colonel Vale's modernization office.
Whitaker leaned toward the screen.
“Who actually had access to that account?”
Price checked the associated authorization list.
“Three people, sir.”
“Names.”
“Colonel Adrian Vale, Northstar project administrator Victor Sloane, and a contractor technical director named Graham Pike.”
Vale interrupted.
“Shared accounts are common in experimental systems.”
Ortiz looked at him.
“They also make individual accountability difficult, don't they?”
He didn't respond.
The technician opened a second file.
It contained the preliminary safety alerts from Specialist Holt's fatal accident.
The alerts showed that the route conflict had been detected before the vehicle entered the hazardous area.
A warning had been generated.
Then its priority had been manually reduced.
Price's voice trembled.
“I reported that warning.”
Nobody spoke.
“I told Captain Rourke the system was unsafe.”
Rourke closed his eyes.
Price continued.
“Specialist Holt was my friend.”
“He had a baby daughter.”
“He told me he was going to take her fishing when he got home.”
The young sergeant looked toward the captain.
“You told me the accident was my fault for trusting the computer.”
Rourke's expression collapsed.
For the first time, he seemed unable to hide behind his rank.
“I was wrong,” he whispered.
Price shook his head.
“Wrong got Evan killed.”
Ortiz stopped the playback.
She looked toward Whitaker.
“General, this investigation now includes possible evidence tampering and the circumstances surrounding a service member's death.”
Whitaker nodded slowly.
“Proceed.”
Then one of Ortiz's investigators entered.
He carried a printed document recovered from the seized contractor equipment.
“Agent, you need to see this.”
Ortiz read it.
Her expression sharpened.
She handed it to me.
Across the top was an old classification reference.
Beneath it were six names.
Mine was first.
The other five belonged to my dead teammates.
At the bottom, someone had written a chilling instruction.
REPLICATE NIGHT SPARROW FAILURE CONDITIONS.
The document had been created three weeks before the morning's training exercise.
I stared at the page.
This wasn't just someone hiding an old mistake.
Someone was deliberately recreating it.
May you like
And suddenly, I wondered whether the exercise had ever been intended to measure the Rangers at all.
Maybe it had been designed to measure me.
