“You are stealing from the military,” I said.

“We are redirecting underutilized assets,” my father corrected. “And your Colonel has been a beneficiary of that redirection for a decade.”

The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

The missing cargo manifests from my unit.

The sudden transfer of security personnel at the local depots.

The constant oversight from the Colonel’s office on routine shipping lanes.

“He didn’t send me home to rest,” I said. “He sent me here so you could deal with me.”

“He hoped you would be sensible,” my father said. “But we both knew that was unlikely.”

He slowly reached toward his coat pocket again.

“Keep your hands on the chair,” I snapped, pointing the gun directly at his forehead.

He stopped, his fingers hovering inches from his lapel.

“You cannot stop this, Natalie,” he said. “The manifest is already in the system.”

“I can delete it,” I said.

“The server is mirrored at the base,” he replied. “The order is locked.”

I looked at the terminal screen again.

The digital signature block had a timestamp.