Chương 6
The jet had been stripped, studied, and eventually removed from service.
The anomaly had never reproduced.
“Was this aircraft hit by anything?”
“No.”
“Recent maintenance?”
Haskell pushed another sheet toward me.
“Flight-control computer module swapped six weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“Intermittent fault code.”
“Same side?”
“Yes.”
Priya scrolled.
“The replacement module came from depot stock.”
“Source lot?”
She glanced at Haskell.
He looked less tired now.
More alert.
“We’re pulling it.”
I sat back.
Reyes watched me.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I need the complete data from the Kerr incident.”
Haskell frowned.
“Kerr?”
“Lieutenant Daniel Kerr.”
Priya looked at me.
“Northstar.”
The word was quiet.
I turned.
She seemed to regret saying it.
“You know the incident?”
“I read the safety summary in grad school.”
I looked back at the screen.
“Then you know the public summary doesn’t include the raw sequence.”
“No.”
“It was restricted after the review.”
Haskell shifted.
“Why?”
“Because the failure chain didn’t make sense.”
Reyes leaned against the table.
“And now?”
“Now another one doesn’t.”
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Haskell shook his head.
“One historical anomaly does not make a fleet problem.”
“No.”
I closed the folder.
“But two deserve respect.”
By seven, we had authorization to retrieve the archived technical package.
By eight, three people were arguing over access permissions.
By nine, someone discovered the relevant archive had been migrated to a newer system with incomplete metadata.
That was the military version of archaeology.
Priya bought terrible vending-machine coffee and drank it anyway.
Haskell complained that the machine had raised prices without improving quality.
For ten minutes, nobody discussed aircraft.
Then Reyes came back into the room holding a printed message.
“Found the depot lot.”
She put it on the table.
The room quieted.
Priya read the number first.
Her eyebrows pulled together.
“What?”
Haskell leaned over.
His face changed.
I stood.
The replacement flight-control module installed in yesterday’s aircraft had come from the same remanufacturing batch as one recovered from Rook’s Hornet five years earlier.
Not the same module.
The same production lot.
Haskell stared at the paper.
“That lot should’ve been dispositioned.”
“Meaning?”
Priya asked.
“Meaning quarantined, reviewed, and either recertified or destroyed.”
“Was it?”
“I don’t know.”
Reyes looked at me.
“Could one bad component explain both?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s not much.”
“It’s more than we had yesterday.”
Haskell pulled out his phone.
“I need to call supply.”
Reyes stopped him.
“Secure line.”
He nodded and left.
Priya sat back.
“Five years is a long time for a bad lot to stay invisible.”
“Unless the failure is rare,” I said.
“Or misclassified.”
She looked at me.
“Or somebody closed the original investigation too early.”
That possibility stayed in the room after she said it.
Reyes picked up the message.
“I want facts before theories.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
Personal device.
I ignored it.
It vibrated again.
Then again.
Reyes looked at me.
“Family?”
“Probably.”
“Take five.”
I stepped into the corridor.
Three messages waited.
One from Evan.
One from Diane.
One from an unknown number.
I opened Evan’s first.
Chase posted something.
My stomach tightened.
The second message arrived before I could respond.
He deleted it, but somebody screenshotted it.
I opened the unknown number.
There was an image attached.
Chase’s social media post showed a cropped photograph from dinner.
Me standing near the overturned chair.
Him leaning backward.
The caption read:
Apparently my brother’s wife is some secret TOPGUN hero now.
Guess physical assault is okay if you have rank.
The post had been live for eleven minutes.
That was enough.
Comments sat beneath the screenshot.
Some mocked him.
Some defended him.
One asked for my full name.
Another had already supplied it.
I closed my eyes.
The corridor smelled faintly of floor cleaner and burnt coffee.
The secure door opened behind me.
Reyes stepped out.
“What happened?”
I handed her the phone.
She read the screenshot.
Her expression did not change immediately.
Then her jaw hardened.
“When was this posted?”
“Last night.”
“You’re identified?”
“In the comments.”
“Current assignment?”
“Not yet.”
She handed the phone back.
“That changes this.”
“I know.”
This time, nobody told me to stop saying it.
Reyes glanced toward the secure room.
“Public affairs and security will need to assess exposure.”
“Understood.”
“You cannot contact him about deleting anything.”
“He already deleted it.”
“Good.”
She paused.
“Do not engage.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
My phone rang.
Evan.
I stared at the screen.
Reyes saw his name.
“Take it.”
I answered.
“Tell me you didn’t know.”
Silence.
Then Evan said, “I didn’t.”
“Where is he?”
“At Dad’s.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
Another silence.
“Evan.”
“I punched him.”
I pressed two fingers against my forehead.
Of all the possible answers, that one had not occurred to me.
“You what?”
“He said you were using the story to humiliate him.”
“And you punched him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was angry.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know.”
I stared at the wall.
He caught himself.
“Sorry.”
“Is he hurt?”
“Split lip.”
“Police?”
“No.”
“Yet.”
“No.”
Behind the secure door, somebody called Reyes’s name.
She looked at me.
I held up one finger.
Evan said, “Lauren, I messed up.”
“Yes.”
“I was trying to defend you.”
“I did not ask you to hit your brother.”
“I know.”
I nearly laughed from frustration.
Instead I said, “Do not post anything.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not message him.”
“Okay.”
“Do not call anybody about my job.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not try to fix this.”
That stopped him.
After a moment, he said, “What am I supposed to do?”
For two years, I had wanted him to act.
Now the first time he did, he had made everything more complicated.
I leaned my head against the wall.
“Go home.”
“Lauren—”
“Go home, Evan.”
The line went quiet.
Then he said, “Okay.”
I hung up.
Reyes was watching me.
“Everything good?”
“No.”
May you like
“Anything that affects this?”
“My husband assaulted the man who made the post.”
