Chapter 4
“Captain Reynolds, I need a direct patch to the Department of Naval Intelligence watch desk in Washington,” she whispered. Reynolds glanced at the open cockpit avionics and instantly recognized the deadly gravity in her calm tone.
“You have five minutes before I must close the main cabin door for departure, Commander,” Reynolds replied without hesitation. He reached into the flight deck, pulling down the satellite communication headset and passing it through the doorway.
She punched the emergency routing code she had memorized twelve years earlier as an active tactical diver. Three mechanical clicks sounded over the encrypted channel before a crisp, sleepless voice answered from the Pentagon watch center.
“Watch Officer Miller, state your identification and priority status,” the voice crackled through the static. “This is Lieutenant Commander Kristen Paul, Trident Zero-Four,” she replied evenly. “Authenticate code Echo-Seven-Sierra-Nine-Delta.”
A long, suffocating pause stretched across the satellite frequency before the operator’s tone shifted into sharp military alertness. “Commander Paul, your operational profile was archived under deep black clearance. What is your emergency?”
“I have recovered conclusive actionable intelligence regarding the loss of Deep Dive Unit Six,” Kristen stated firmly. “The primary financier of the maritime salvage syndicate is currently being detained in the terminal at Gate B-Twelve.”
She gave the operator Julian Sterling’s full legal name, his corporate vehicle, and the exact coordinates provided in Marcus’s letter. The keyboard clatter on the other end came in frantic, machine-gun bursts of rapid activity.
“Commander, stay exactly where you are,” the watch officer directed. “Federal marshals and military criminal investigators are being dispatched to the terminal concourse immediately. Do not lose sight of the target under any circumstances.”
Kristen passed the communication headset back to Captain Reynolds, who looked at her with renewed respect and absolute bewilderment. “Is he truly the man behind what happened to your team, Commander?” the captain asked softly.
“He is,” Kristen confirmed, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “And he is about to discover that some debts cannot be settled with platinum status or arrogant private corporate lawyers.”
Reynolds looked at his flight displays, then made a split-second professional decision that went beyond any airline protocol. “Flight 418 will take a thirty-minute maintenance hold, Commander. See this through to the very end.”
Kristen nodded her gratitude and stepped out through the open aircraft boarding door back into the long jet bridge. Her boots echoed sharply against the ribbed floor as she walked purposefully toward the busy airport terminal.