Chapter 59 - The Washington Tribunal Converges
The bridge of the *Vanguard* fell into dead silence.
Vance stared at the image of Thomas Hayes, his hands balling into fists so tight his knuckles cracked like pistol shots. "That miserable, cowardly dog," Vance spat, his voice shaking with pure fury. "You saved his house! You paid his debts! You worked three consecutive sea tours without leave so he could keep his country club membership! And he sells you out to save his own skin?"
"He didn't do it to save his skin," Rebecca said, her voice dropping into a chilling, absolute calm. The cold of the Arctic sea seemed to have settled permanently into her eyes. "Thomas never had principles, Vance. He only had appetites. Orion didn't just use him. They bought him."
She walked over to the tactical communications station, placing the scarred black quantum drive directly onto the terminal's decryption plate.
"Commander Harris, what is our fuel state?"
"Diesels are at seventy percent, capacitors fully recharged," Harris replied. "We can make thirty-five knots. But NATO has already scrambled maritime patrol aircraft out of Keflavik. The British fleet out of Faslane is putting to sea. If we head south into the North Atlantic, we are sailing straight into the teeth of the entire Western alliance."
"Then we don't sail south," Rebecca said.
Harris blinked. "Admiral?"
"Orion’s network relies on the assumption that I will act like a rogue officer—that I will run for international waters, seek asylum, or hide in the ice shelf," Rebecca said, tapping the quantum drive. "They expect me to defend myself at a court-martial months from now, after they have already scrubbed the records, liquidated the assets, and buried the truth in closed-door hearings."
She looked at her officers, her voice ringing with the unshakeable authority that had carried them through the fire of Jan Mayen.
"We are not running. We are not hiding. We are setting course directly for the Potomac."
"The Potomac?" Vance’s eyebrows shot up. "Admiral, that’s sailing right into the lion's mouth. Norfolk has two carrier strike groups at the mouth of the Chesapeake. They’ll blow us out of the water before we cross the Virginia Capes."
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"Not if we don't broadcast on tactical frequencies," Rebecca said, leaning over the navigational holotank. "The *Vanguard* has the Sovereign Accord's master encryption suite embedded in this drive. Every automated sensor, every SOSUS listening post, every early-warning radar along the Eastern Seaboard uses the Orion cryptographic handshake. They built the backdoor to hide their weapons. We are going to use that backdoor to sail a warship right up to the front door of the Pentagon."
She turned to Harris. "Strip our transponders. Engage the acoustic dampening tiles. We run silent, we run deep, and we do not stop until the world hears what Thomas Hayes sold his daughter for."
