Chapter 5 - THE SALUTE
Before Chloe could process her sister’s words, heavy boots crunched to a sudden stop on the concrete beside them.
A Senior Chief Petty Officer, his uniform crisp and his face set in a stony mask of urgent focus, halted sharply two feet from the Commander. He did not look at Chloe. He did not acknowledge her presence or her high-end civilian clothing.
"Commander," the Senior Chief barked out, his voice sharp and loud enough to cut through the dying echoes of the siren. "Fleet Security has the breach. Deep-water recovery teams are deploying from Sector 4."
Without a millisecond of delay, the senior sailor snapped his right hand to his brow, delivering a crisp, perfectly formal military salute.
The gesture hung in the air like a thunderclap.
Chloe froze. Her breath hitched in her throat, catching in her chest as if she had been struck. Her wide, terrified eyes drifted slowly from the senior sailor’s rigid hand... to the polished golden oak leaf insignia pinned to her sister’s collar... and finally toward the two armed security personnel who came to a halt ten feet away, their hands resting on their weapons.
For thirty-eight years, Chloe had viewed her younger sister as the annoying, quiet girl who played with strategy games and followed rules. She had convinced herself that her sister’s military career was just a middle-management job—something mundane that paled in comparison to her own high-society catering events.
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Now, standing on a restricted pier surrounded by armed guards and flashing crimson emergency lights, the harsh reality shattered her delusion.
Her sister was not just a soldier. She was a Commander in the United States Navy—a senior authority who held absolute command over ships, secrets, and the lives of the men and women currently surrounding them.
