Chapter 7 - The Gathering Storm
Across the base, in the brick housing area reserved for senior officers along Normandy Drive, Lieutenant Colonel Vanessa Cole was not packing. She was pacing across her living room floor with a phone pressed against her ear, her face crimson with fury.
"Uncle Robert, she humiliated me," Vanessa said into the receiver, her voice shaking with indignation. "She made me mop the cafeteria floor in front of enlisted personnel. It was calculated to destroy my authority. She's using some administrative paperwork on facility maintenance as a pretext to ruin my promotion board."
On the other end of the line was retired Lieutenant General Robert Cole, a man who still sat on defense advisory boards and held deep connections throughout the Washington procurement corridors.
"Vanessa," the gravelly voice replied through the speaker. "Sophia Carter isn't some political climber you can push aside with a phone call. She commanded a brigade in the Korengal. She served as deputy operations director for the Joint Staff. The Chief of Staff listens to her."
"She overstepped!" Vanessa insisted, slamming her fist onto the mantelpiece. "She arrived without orders of record, unannounced, acting as an inspector general without a charter. I can file a formal complaint with the Department of Defense Inspector General for harassment and abuse of rank!"
"Did you pour coffee on the floor?"
The question was blunt, cutting through Vanessa's tirade like cold water.
Vanessa hesitated. "She was insolent. She was carrying a tray, dressed in civilian clothes, refusing an order from a field-grade officer—"
"Did you pour the coffee, Vanessa?"
"It was an accidental spill during an altercation—"
"Stop lying to me," the old general barked. "I’ve already received two calls from friends at Forces Command. The cafeteria was full of witnesses. You tried to flex your rank on someone you thought was a nobody, and you hit a two-star general who happens to hate entitlement more than anything on earth."
Vanessa sank onto her sofa, the leather creaking under her weight. "So what do I do? Let her strip my command?"
"You prepare for the inquiry," Robert Cole said coldly. "I can ensure the hearing panel isn't stacked with her loyalists, but you have to walk into that room with clean hands. If there is financial misconduct in your brigade accounts, Vanessa, you are on your own. Do you hear me? Clean up your paper."
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The line went dead.
Vanessa lowered the phone, her heart hammering against her ribs. She stood up, grabbed her car keys from the table, and walked out into the dark night. She had three hours before the garrison security team placed physical locks on her office doors.
