She nodded.
โSpeeding.โ
โYes. That can be addressed properly.โ
Her expression softened slightly.
I continued.
โBut what happened afterward needs a full, independent investigation.โ
Shaw nodded.
โIt will receive one.โ
I looked toward Devlin.
He was watching us.
His face had gone pale.
Then I said something I wanted him to hear.
โThis cannot be treated as serious only because I hold a federal position.โ
The captain's expression changed.
I continued.
โAn ordinary woman stopped on this road would deserve the same lawful treatment.โ
For several seconds, Shaw said nothing.
Then she nodded.
โYes, ma'am.โ
I returned to the federal SUV.
Mara opened the door.
I stepped inside.
And as the vehicles began moving toward Fort Meade, I looked through the rear window one last time.
Sergeant Walt Devlin stood beneath the flashing blue lights, watching the convoy disappear.
I wondered whether he was frightened because he'd finally understood what he'd done.
Or because the people who had counted on him to stop me were about to learn he'd failed.
The secure operations room at Fort Meade was already crowded when I arrived.
The clock above the entrance showed 12:46 a.m.
Senior analysts sat beneath banks of displays. Military and civilian representatives stood beside conference tables, examining summaries prepared by different teams.
The room smelled of coffee.
Everyone looked tired.
Nobody seemed surprised to see me arrive wearing an orange evening gown.
That told me how serious the situation had become.
In another context, my appearance would have caused immediate questions.
Here, the only thing anyone cared about was whether I could help make the necessary decisions.
Dr. Priya Shah approached first.
She was thirty-eight, with neatly braided black hair, round glasses, and a reputation for asking questions that made entire teams reconsider their conclusions.
She had led technical integrity reviews for years.
I trusted her because she disliked assumptions almost as much as I did.
โMa'am.โ
โPriya.โ
Her eyes moved toward my wrists.
Then my torn jacket.
For a moment, her expression changed.
โAre you all right?โ
โI'll manage. Give me the situation.โ
She nodded immediately.
We approached the central table.
A senior military liaison, Colonel Aaron Bell, stood beside two program managers and a communications security attorney.
Priya began the briefing.
Several monitoring systems had produced inconsistent integrity information during the evening.