“Put the gun down, Natalie,” Colonel Hayes said, his voice steady.

“You forged the logistics manifests,” I said, keeping my weapon level with his chest.

He didn’t deny it.

He let out a short, dry laugh that sounded like gravel grinding together.

“I didn’t just forge them, Captain,” Hayes said. “I authorized them.”

My father stood by the mahogany desk, his face devoid of color.

“Richard was just the facilitator,” Hayes continued, gesturing slightly with his free hand toward my father. “A civilian contractor with the right warehouse connections and no military oversight.”

“You used my father to smuggle the weapons cache out of the port,” I said.

“Your father wanted the money to save this estate,” Hayes replied. “And I needed someone who could sign off on the commercial shipping containers without triggering an army audit.”

“And Madison?” I asked, my gaze shifting slightly to my sister, who was trembling against the wall.

“Your sister has a habit of looking through files she shouldn’t,” my father muttered, his voice barely audible.

“She found the manifest codes on your laptop, didn’t she, Dad?” I asked.