I clicked on the first folder, labeled *Project Aegis – Phase III testing.*

The documents inside were signed by Colonel Thomas Whitaker and my late father.

I scrolled through the metallurgy reports from the Georgia testing grounds.

“Look at this,” I whispered, pointing to the red-stamped margins.

“Stress fracture probability: eighty-four percent under continuous thermal load.”

“That’s the engine housing,” Aaron said, leaning over the table.

“If that housing cracks, the fuel line ruptures instantly.”

“And the crew?” I asked.

“They have about four seconds to get out before the cabin incinerates,” Aaron said.

I clicked the next file, a spreadsheet titled *Active Inventory – European Theater.*

My eyes scanned the columns of dates, unit locations, and deployment logs.

“These units are in Latvia right now,” I said, my finger tracing the screen.

“And these are in the desert near Erbil.”

“They’re using them for daily patrols,” Aaron said.

“The contract was renewed six months ago.”

“By whom?” I asked.

“Whitaker’s logistics firm,” Aaron said. “Under a subcontracting veil.”

I opened a scanned letter on official Department of Defense letterhead.