It was about survival.

And Daniel had no idea who he was actually threatening.

I let the phone screen go dark.

The SUV tires crunched over the gravel at the entrance of a quiet commercial complex just outside the base gates.

I stepped out into the freezing mountain air.

The wind cut through my wool coat, carrying the smell of pine and dry Colorado dust.

I walked past the security cameras and pushed open the heavy glass door of the office building.

Sarah Jenkins, my civilian attorney, was already waiting for me in the small, windowless conference room.

She had three thick manila folders spread across the laminate table.

A cardboard cup of lukewarm coffee sat near her elbow.

“You look like you haven’t slept, Rachel,” Sarah said.

She adjusted her glasses and pulled a chair out for me.

“I slept enough,” I said.

I sat down and placed my phone face down on the table.

“What did the forensic accountants find?”

Sarah slid the top folder toward me.

“It is worse than we thought, and much more deliberate.”

I opened the folder.