Chapter 4 - The Threat At The Base Gate From The Vance Heirs
While Ethan was recovering safely in the secure military wing, the news of the blood match and the reopened Parker estate investigation reached the luxury penthouses of Potomac, Maryland.
Marcus Vance’s daughter, Victoria Vance—a ruthless twenty-six-year-old socialite who managed the marketing and public relations division of Vance Defense Dynamics—decided to handle what she called “the nuisance orphan.”
At 14:00 on Friday, Victoria arrived at the visitor gates of Fort Meade in a bright red Ferrari, accompanied by two private corporate security guards wearing designer suits.
She demanded that the Military Police summon Specialist Claire Parker to the gatehouse immediately.
I walked out to the visitor perimeter wearing my service uniform, flanked by two armed military police officers.
Victoria Vance looked at me through oversized designer sunglasses, her lips curled into a sneer of pure, aristocratic contempt.
“So you’re the little charity case trying to dig up ancient history,” Victoria mocked, tapping her manicured nails on the car door. “Listen to me carefully, Claire. My father built Vance Defense into an empire while your father was rotting in the dirt. You’re an enlisted private making thirty thousand a year. If you think you can use some forged papers to extort our family, you’ll find yourself dishonorably discharged and your brother tossed onto the street without his medicine.”
She reached into her designer handbag and tossed an envelope of cash onto the gravel at my feet.
“There’s twenty-five thousand dollars,” Victoria said. “Take your sick brother, move to Ohio, and sign the non-disclosure agreement my lawyers will send to your barracks. Otherwise, I will have your military career erased by morning.”
I didn't flinch. I didn't look down at the money in the dirt.
Before I could speak, the rumble of six heavy diesel engines vibrated the ground.
Three black armored military gunships rolled up to the gate, and Colonel Harrison Cole stepped out of the lead vehicle in full tactical gear, accompanied by four armed Special Forces operators with suppressed carbines.
Victoria Vance froze, her sunglasses slipping down her nose.
Harrison walked straight up to the red Ferrari, stepped onto the cash envelope on the gravel, grinding the hundred-dollar bills into the mud beneath his heavy combat boots.
He leaned over the driver’s window, his steel-blue eyes burning with terrifying, lethal coldness.
May you like
“Miss Vance,” Harrison said, his voice dropping into a register that made the surrounding guards reach for their holsters in panic. “Inform your father that his twenty-year theft of the Parker estate is officially terminated. And if you ever speak to Specialist Parker again, I will have the United States Marshals seize this vehicle and every bank account in your name before the sun sets.”
Victoria’s face turned an ugly shade of gray. She slammed her car into reverse, burning rubber on the asphalt as she fled the military base in sheer terror.
