The driver held the rear door open for me, his umbrella shielding me from the downpour.

“Headquarters, Admiral?” the driver asked as I slid into the leather seat.

“Yes,” I said. “As fast as safely possible.”

The door closed with a solid, muted thud, shutting out the sound of the storm and my family’s home.

I pulled my secure tablet from my briefcase as the car pulled out of the long, winding driveway.

The screen illuminated my face in the dark interior of the vehicle.

I logged into the secure network, bypass protocols flashing green across the screen.

I opened the pending personnel file directory for my department.

At the very top of the list, flagged with a red high-priority marker, was a new file.

The name on the file was Nathan Reed.

I tapped the screen to open the document.

The details of his request began to load, line by line.

The tires hummed against the wet asphalt of the interstate.

I scrolled through the first few pages of Nathan’s file.

He was a decorated Lieutenant Commander, his record immaculate.