Tonya stood near the door, her arms crossed, watching the performance unfold. Her expression remained neutral, but her fingers drummed slightly against her arm, a tell of contained frustration. When it was Elijah's turn to speak, the difference in his account was striking. Each word came measured and clear, stripped of emotion, but heavy with truth. I was performing my duties as casualty escort for Private First Class Noah Mercer, he stated.
My orders and credentials were immediately available. The casket was clearly marked with military transport designations. I maintained my position as required by escort protocol, which states the fallen must never be left unattended. And your response to lawful commands? The administrator pressed.
I responded to all instructions with appropriate military courtesy while upholding my sworn duty to protect the dignity of the deceased. Maya wanted to jump in to point out how they were twisting protocol against him, but she recognized her father's strategy. Let his discipline expose their chaos. Let his calm reveal their prejudice. After the statements concluded, Maya caught up with him in the hallway.
Dad, they're building a case against you. Playing by their rules won't help. They'll just keep moving the goalposts. I know. His voice was quiet.
But I won't give them real ammunition by losing control. Sometimes control itself becomes a weapon they use against you, she said. They're counting on your silence, your perfect behavior. That's how they'll bury this. Before he could respond, Tonya approached quickly, glancing over her shoulder.
I need to show you something. Not here. She led them to her office, closing the door. I can access the complete surveillance footage from yesterday. Multiple angles, unedited.
But they've already put in requests to review and restrict it for security purposes. How long do we have? Maya asked. Hours, maybe. Once they lock it down, getting copies will require subpoenas, and by then Tonya let the implication hang.
Elijah's phone buzzed. A message from another casualty assistance officer. His expression shifted as he read. What is it? Maya asked.
Noah Mercer filed something at his base before he died. A confidential concern report. Most of it's restricted. But the timestamp shows it was submitted 3 days before his death. What kind of concern?
That part's blocked, but it went to the Inspector General's office. That's serious. Means he was reporting something big enough to bypass his chain of command. Maya's legal instincts fired. A soldier files a major complaint, dies days later in a training accident, and suddenly there's coordinated pressure to rush his burial and silence anyone asking questions?