The Truth Buried Deep Inside My Father’s Empty New Jersey Coffin
“His father was threatened with a tax audit,” Mara said. “He chose to send his son to a civilian university instead.”
The rain smeared the red taillights of the truck ahead of us.
I felt a cold emptiness opening up in my chest.
“What about the Pentagon?” I asked. “My transfer to the Joint Staff was approved by the Secretary.”
“The Secretary was acting on a recommendation from a committee,” Mara said.
“A committee chaired by Harlan Voss,” I said, the realization hitting me.
“Yes,” Mara said. “They needed you in the logistics division.”
“Why logistics?” I asked.
“Because Project Cadence required the transport of classified biological materials,” Mara said. “Materials that had to bypass standard customs inspections.”
“They used my signature,” I said. “My clearance.”
“You signed the manifests because you believed they were standard medical supplies for overseas garrisons,” Mara said.
I leaned my head against the cold glass of the window.
“Every evaluation,” I whispered. “Every commendation.”
“They were real achievements, Natalie,” Mara said, her tone softening slightly. “But you were guided into the lane where those achievements would serve them best.”