Chapter 3 - THE PROFILE MASON NEVER CLOSED
Mason was removed from the pier before lunch.
Not arrested.
Not yet.
His commanding officer, Lieutenant Commander Brooke Hale, placed him on immediate administrative restriction from cargo operations pending investigation.
Rachel was temporarily removed from seal-control duties too.
She hated that.
Hale explained why.
“You cut a controlled seal without authorization.”
“My name was on it.”
“That gave you reason to report it.”
“Mason punched me.”
“That gave you reason to defend yourself.”
Rachel stared at her.
Hale continued.
“It did not give you authority to open an unknown sealed container with bolt cutters in the middle of an active pier.”
Rachel looked away.
Fair.
Rachel's responses to Mason's physical attacks would be reviewed separately.
Pier cameras showed Mason initiated the confrontation.
That helped.
Cutting the seal was still hers.
Then NCIS asked about her old profile.
Rachel knew before they showed her the screen.
Seven months earlier.
Emergency outbound load.
One of their destroyers had needed a late shipment of navigation-control repair modules before sailing.
Rachel had been final inspection custodian.
Six pallets.
Five arrived.
Pallet Six was late.
At 1647, Rachel's father called from Virginia Beach.
Chest pain.
Ambulance.
Rachel had left the pier.
Not immediately.
She spent eleven minutes trying to finish.
Then Mason said:
“Go. I'll close it.”
Rachel signed the inspection worksheet.
The final seal field was still blank.
“What did you tell him?”
Pierce asked.
Rachel stared at the table.
“Seal it when Six arrives.”
“Under whose authority?”
“Mine.”
“You could delegate?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Secure logistics system allowed a limited temporary delegation from a primary inspector to another certified custodian.
Rachel opened it on her phone before leaving.
Recipient:
Mason Reed.
Duration:
Seventy-two hours.
Purpose:
Final seal / Container 33A
Then her father was hospitalized.
Two days became six.
Then twelve.
He died three weeks later.
Rachel did not return to normal pier duty for almost a month.
“Did you close the delegation?”
Pierce asked.
“I thought it expired.”
“It did.”
“So?”
Pierce turned the screen.
The authorization expired.
The profile did not.
A local software customization stored prior custodian names in the secure seal printer for “repeat issue efficiency.”
Meaning once Mason had printed a replacement seal under Rachel's delegated job—
R. CARTER remained available as a recent template.
Not as Rachel's login.
As a printable field.
Rachel stared.
“Anyone could select it?”
“Not anyone.”
Pier Four certified seal personnel.
Twenty-three people at the time.
Eighteen now.
Then Mason's old print record.
17:51.
Container 33A.
Seal:
D-44109.
Custodian:
R. CARTER.
Printed by:
M. REED.
Rachel looked at Pierce.
“I didn't know he printed under my name.”
“Did you review the final inspection when you came back?”
Rachel hesitated.
There.
“No.”
“Why?”
“My father had just died.”
Pierce nodded.
No judgment in his face.
Still wrote it down.
Then another record.
Six weeks after the shipment.
Inventory discrepancy.
One pallet of navigation-control modules missing from receiving reconciliation.
Value:
$684,000.
Rachel stopped.
“What?”
Brooke Hale, sitting in on the interview, looked away.
Rachel turned.
“You knew.”
Hale answered:
“It was treated as a routing discrepancy.”
“Was it recovered?”
Silence.
Rachel stared.
“Was it recovered?”
Pierce answered.
“No.”
Rachel felt suddenly cold.
The old shipment she had left unfinished had been missing a pallet for seven months.
Her name remained on the seal record.
Mason had never told her.
The command had never told her directly because she was initially treated as a witness whose paperwork appeared complete.
Then Rachel asked:
“Was that why Glassline was watching the pier?”
Pierce leaned back.
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
“Your missing pallet wasn't the only seal problem.”
He slid another page across.
Five containers.
Five seal substitutions over eight months.
Three different custodian names.
Two different shipping lines.
One repeated location.
Pier Four.
Then Rachel saw the sixth entry.
No missing cargo.
No prior complaint.
Container 44C.
The surveillance container.
Someone had replaced its seal with her name less than twelve hours after NCIS installed it.
May you like
That meant whoever touched 44C either got very lucky—
or knew exactly which container they were not supposed to touch.
