Not without assistance.
Which meant one terrifying possibility.
Someone retrieved them.
Someone prepared for this.
The intelligence officer lowered his voice.
“We intercepted communications from a foreign vessel operating without transponder signals near the impact zone.”
Espionage.
Recovery theft.
International breach.
Every scenario worsened by the second.
My father suddenly looked pale.
“Claire… what exactly is Argus Shield?”
I looked at him calmly.
“The operation your golf buddies aren’t cleared to know exists.”
Then I turned and walked toward the patio exit beside General Hale.
Behind me, nobody spoke.
Not my mother.
Not Nathan.
Not even my father.
The country club suddenly felt very small.
Very civilian.
As we crossed through the lobby, General Hale finally spoke quietly.
“You handled that better than I expected.”
I gave a humorless smile.
“You mean my family?”
She nodded.
“I’ve read your personnel profile.”
That made me glance sideways.
Most people with her clearance level avoided personal comments.
“Then you know they’ve underestimated me for years.”
The general’s expression softened slightly.
“Yes.”
Outside, the summer heat hit hard again.
Two black SUVs waited near the curb beside an unmarked Air Force transport vehicle.
Security personnel scanned the parking lot continuously.
This wasn’t routine movement.
This was escalation.
As we approached the vehicle, my secure phone vibrated again.
Incoming encrypted call.
I answered immediately.
“Whitmore.”
A familiar voice replied.
“Claire.”
My stomach tightened instantly.
“Ethan?”
Colonel Ethan Mercer rarely sounded emotional.
Now he sounded exhausted.
And afraid.
“Tell me you haven’t boarded yet.”
“I’m about to.”
“Good. Don’t.”
General Hale immediately looked toward me sharply.
“What happened?”
I held up one finger while listening.
Ethan lowered his voice.
“The telemetry leak wasn’t accidental.”
My pulse sharpened.
“Go on.”
“We found embedded code inside the recovery system.”
Sabotage.
I closed my eyes briefly.
Of course.
Ethan continued.
“Someone altered the capsule guidance remotely.”
General Hale swore quietly beside me.
“Who has access?” I asked.
Silence.
Then:
“Only senior recovery personnel.”
I stopped walking.
No.
No no no.
Because there were fewer than twelve people on that clearance roster.
And I knew every one of them.
Ethan’s voice dropped further.
“There’s something else.”
I already hated those words.
“We traced the breach signature.”
My throat tightened.
“To who?”
Another silence.
Then one name.
“Your brother.”
The world seemed to tilt sideways.
Nathan?
Impossible.
He worked corporate defense contracts.
Civilian aerospace logistics.
No operational clearance.
No direct access.
General Hale saw my expression change instantly.
“What?”
I lowered the phone slowly.
“Nathan’s name was attached to the sabotage signature.”
The general froze.
“That’s impossible.”
Exactly.
Which meant one of two things.
Either my brother had somehow become involved in something catastrophic…
Or someone intentionally used his credentials.
Neither possibility felt survivable.
Inside the clubhouse behind us, I suddenly heard shouting.
Then glass breaking.
Security personnel immediately moved.
One officer touched his earpiece sharply.
“Sir, we’ve got movement inside.”
General Hale turned instantly.
“What kind of movement?”
Before anyone answered, the clubhouse front doors burst open.
People flooded outside in panic.
Country club staff. Guests. Servers.
Running.
Then I saw him.
My father.
Stumbling through the doorway white as paper.
And behind him—
Two armed federal agents.
“Gordon Whitmore!” one shouted.
The entire parking lot froze.
My father turned wildly toward me.
“Claire!”
Not Dad.
Not sweetheart.
Not daughter.
Claire.
Pure panic filled his voice.
The agents closed in rapidly.
One grabbed his arm.
“You are being detained under federal investigative authority.”
“What?” my mother screamed somewhere behind him.
Nathan appeared seconds later looking equally horrified.
General Hale stepped forward immediately.
“What’s going on?”
One of the agents flashed credentials.
Defense Criminal Investigative Service.
My pulse instantly sharpened.
DCIS only appeared when military corruption crossed into national security.
The lead agent looked directly at me.
“Colonel Whitmore, we need to ask your father several questions regarding unauthorized aerospace contract access.”
Everything inside me went still.
My father shook violently now.
“This is insane!”
The agent ignored him.
“We have evidence linking Whitmore Consulting Group to leaked propulsion schematics connected to the Argus program.”
The words hit like a physical impact.
Argus.
No.
Not my father.
Anyone else.
I stared at him.
Really stared.
And suddenly memories rearranged themselves.
His sudden interest in my deployments.
Questions about launch systems.
Comments about defense contracts.
Nathan’s recent promotion.
The endless networking dinners.
My father wasn’t just bragging at country clubs.
He was hunting access.
Nathan looked completely shattered.
“Dad… what did they just say?”
My father wouldn’t meet his eyes.
That terrified me more than anything.
The agent continued.
“Sir, encrypted transfers from your corporate servers were traced directly to offshore aerospace intermediaries under federal surveillance.”
General Hale’s expression became ice cold.
“You sold classified material?”
My father exploded immediately.
“I didn’t know what it was!”
The silence afterward was devastating.
Because innocent people don’t answer like that.
My mother covered her mouth.
Nathan physically stepped backward.
And suddenly I understood something horrifying.
Nathan’s credentials weren’t used accidentally.
My father used his access.
His company.
His systems.
He dragged his own son into federal sabotage without him even realizing it.
The agent looked toward me carefully.
“Colonel Whitmore… the compromised telemetry may have resulted from leaked propulsion architecture tied to your father’s company.”
I felt sick………………………….
