Chapter 5 - Unlocking the Briefcase of National Defense
I looked up from the tactical display and locked my eyes directly onto Caleb.
“Caleb,” I said softly, my voice carrying across the silent terrace. “Apex Infrastructure Group. Isn't that the primary subcontractor your firm, Foster Development, hired to install the private data corridors for your fifty-million-dollar downtown project?”
The entire crowd of alumni—including the state senator, local bank presidents, and corporate attorneys—turned their heads simultaneously toward Caleb.
“I... I... Audrey, wait,” Caleb stammered, raising his hands in frantic defense. “Apex was just... they were the lowest bidder on the optical routing package! They told me they had international backing! They promised thirty-percent margins on the server infrastructure! I didn't know what they were doing with the raw fiber lines!”
“You didn’t verify the origin of their hardware?” I asked.
“It was a private equity deal!” Caleb cried out, his voice cracking with sheer panic. “Vanessa vetted the regulatory filings! Vanessa’s former law firm approved the foreign investment capital!”
Vanessa looked as though she had been struck by lightning. “Caleb, shut your mouth!” she hissed, her aristocratic composure completely shattering. “You do not bring my name into a corporate negligence issue!”
“You signed the compliance exemptions, Vanessa!” Caleb shouted back, entirely unconcerned with social etiquette now that federal prison loomed in front of him. “You told me the Department of Commerce wouldn't audit the foreign hardware imports if we routed the shell ownership through your judicial investment trust!”
A collective gasp swept through the alumni crowd. Melanie Cross, the state senator, immediately took three steps away from Vanessa, pulling out her phone to summon her chief of staff.
“Thomas,” I said, turning back to Callahan. “Initiate the biometric override. Authorize the 16th Cyber Operations Wing to execute an immediate kinetic seizure of the Apex server farm in Douglas County. Patch me through to Peterson Space Force Base.”
“Yes, General,” Callahan replied.
I placed my right thumb onto the terminal’s thermal scanner. A soft mechanical chime sounded:
BIOMETRICS VERIFIED // GENERAL A. LANGSTON // COMMAND AUTHORITY TRANSFERRED.
I pressed the transmit key on the tactical radio headset Callahan handed me.
“This is Langston. Execute Operation Sovereign Shield. Sever the Apex trunk lines at the root node. Deploy tactical teams to the facility perimeter. Detain all foreign technical personnel on site. Authorize active electronic counter-measures. Shut them down. Now.”
On the screen before us, the waterfall of red code suddenly froze.
A series of rapid green confirmation lines cascaded down the display:
NODE SEVERED // SATELLITE TELEMETRY RESTORED // ORBITAL RELAY NOMINAL // 100% INTEGRITY CONFIRMED.
The entire operation had taken less than ninety seconds.
May you like
Callahan let out a long, audible breath of relief. “Telemetry is secure, Ma’am. Cheyenne Mountain reports all early-warning constellations are operating at full capacity. The breach has been contained.”
“Good,” I said, taking off the headset and handing it back. “Now let’s deal with the domestic fallout.”
Related Stories
