Chapter 14 - The Subpoena and the Slander
Julian knelt before the trembling old shipwright, his voice calm but firm. "Thomas, we can protect Toby. Admiral Vance still has influence with Walter Reed’s pediatric oncology wing. But if you let that carrier put to sea, hundreds of other people's children are going to die in an engine room inferno."
Bailey raised his head, tears carving pale tracks through the soot on his cheeks. "It’s worse than you think. The reactor bulkhead isn't the primary failure point. They bypassed the emergency coolant depressurization bypass valves completely. The secondary sensors are rigged with an analog override. If the ship goes to full flank speed during the acceptance trial, the pressure builds up silently. The bridge will read normal green lights right up until the steam lines detonate."
"When is the trial scheduled?" I demanded, ice flooding my veins.
"Tomorrow morning at 0600," Bailey whispered. "They moved it up forty-eight hours. Richard Halston pulled strings at the Pentagon to bypass the drydock safety board while you were under investigation. The Secretary of Defense is boarding at dawn. Along with three foreign naval attachés and eighty press reporters."
"A PR showcase," Julian spat in disgust. "They're going to push that ship to thirty knots in front of international media to prove the Halston design is flawless, lock in the foreign export contracts, and bury Ellie's allegations forever."
Just then, my burner phone buzzed against the metal table. It was an encrypted direct line from Admiral Vance Senior.
I hit speakerphone. "Ellison here, Admiral."
"Ellie," the old hero’s voice was uncharacteristically tight, carrying the gravity of a man preparing for a broadside. "The House Armed Services Committee just leaked the forged Caymans account documents to the morning news networks. Derek Halston is on television right now, claiming he was the victim of a personal vendetta by an emotionally unstable, disabled female officer looking to scapegoat his family for her own sea-trial accident."
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"Let him talk," I replied, my voice chillingly level. "Because at 0600, Richard Halston is going to sail Hull 804 into the Atlantic with a bomb ticking inside her belly."
"Not on my watch," the Admiral barked. "I’m in my full dress uniform, Ellison. Meet me at the Norfolk perimeter gate at 0430. We’re taking that ship back."
