Chapter 8 - THE RECOVERY OPERATION
A heavy naval crane stationed near the bow of the warship groaned into life, its steel cables swinging out over the water as the deep-water recovery vessel maneuvered into position below the pier. Two divers in full black wetsuits sat on the edge of the vessel, adjusting their oxygen masks as they prepared to plunge into the cold bay to retrieve the sunken classified tablet.
The alarm on the pier finally ceased its high-pitched ringing, replaced by the deep, rhythmic hum of tactical communication radios and the steady coordination of fleet personnel.
Chloe was forced down into a seated position on a steel equipment bench near the security post, her hands cuffed behind her back. Her hair was a tangled mess, her makeup smudged from tears of humiliation and panic. She watched as sailors walked past her, completely ignoring her presence as if she were nothing more than a piece of discarded debris.
She watched her sister—the Commander—moving seamlessly among her staff. The Commander issued rapid, precise orders to the engineering chief, reviewed tactical logs on a secondary monitor, and coordinated with the harbor patrol unit without a single sign of fatigue or hesitation.
For the first time in her life, Chloe saw the immense scope of the world her sister inhabited. It was a world where personal grudges, petty jealousy, and civilian status held zero value. It was a world built on iron duty, where actions carried absolute, immediate consequences.
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A security vehicle pulled onto the pier, its red and blue lights flashing against the side of the warship. Two military police officers stepped out, opening the rear door of the reinforced sedan.
Chloe looked up as the guards stood her up from the bench. Her spirit was completely broken. "Sarah... please... don't let them take me to jail."
