Chapter 3 - The ship that kept obeying him
Kane did not need five hundred loyal people.
He only needed enough frightened ones.
That was the part civilians never understood about authority in a closed system. Power did not survive because everyone believed in it. It survived because enough people were too exhausted, compromised, or scared to be first.
While Bennett taped my ribs and checked my pupils, Kane took back the deck inch by inch.
Gunnery Sergeant Blake Morgan moved to his side.
Two armed Marines followed.
A boatswain’s mate closed the distance toward Reed as if shame could be swallowed inside duty.
Only Ellis stayed exactly where she was, one hand braced against the chart stand, eyes moving between Kane and the rail like she was trying to calculate the cost of every choice in real time.
Reed crouched beside me while Alvarez leaned against the bulkhead, breathing through pain.
“You got the case?”
I thumped it once with my palm.
“Wouldn’t be soaking for fun.”
His mouth almost twitched.
“Good.”
“Start talking.”
He did.
Three weeks earlier, Reed found conflicting fuel reports tied to cargo movements that didn’t match any official port transfers. When he pushed, Kane smiled, invited him below Deck Four, and showed him the hidden maintenance void. Water. medical supplies. electronics. restricted equipment. Enough stolen inventory to turn a logistics scandal into a national security case.
When Reed threatened to report it, Kane hit him, took his sidearm, and locked him in the void with Alvarez, who had seen too much while servicing the pumps.
“The body camera?” I asked.
“I hid it before he took my gear.”
“And the case?”
“Insurance. In case I didn’t come out.”
He didn’t need to say the rest.
Alive.
I looked toward Kane. He was speaking into a handheld radio, too quietly for ordinary ears, but not quietly enough for a diver trained to listen through engine thrum and water pressure.
“Tell them we’re ahead of schedule.”
Them.
There it was.
I caught Ellis’s eye.
She gave me almost nothing, then said to the helmsman, “Maintain original course pending written override.”
Kane turned so sharply his sunglasses slipped lower on his nose.
“That was not an invitation, Lieutenant.”
“With respect, sir, any unscheduled route deviation requires—”
“I am your written override.”
His voice carried. The crew heard it.
The crew also heard Reed say, “He’s heading for the transfer.”
Kane snapped his fingers at Morgan. “Brig them.”
Morgan stepped forward.
I rose with Bennett’s help, water still streaming off me.
“If you put me in the brig,” I said, “NCIS will know exactly why.”
Kane smiled.
“By the time they get here, Petty Officer, this situation will be corrected.”
That line bothered me more than the threat.
I turned back to Reed.
“How long until the boarding team?”
He shook his head.
“I heard Ward once, over the service speaker in the void. Weather delayed them.”
My stomach hardened.
“Delayed how long?”
Ellis answered before Reed could.
“Ninety minutes, minimum.”
Ninety minutes was enough time for Kane to dump evidence, frame a mutiny, and realign every witness statement by fear.
Then Alvarez spoke for the first time.
“There’s a second archive.”
Everyone looked at him.
He swallowed. “In Kane’s cabin. Paper copies. Payment logs. Port contacts.”
Kane lunged toward him.
Morgan grabbed Reed.
The deck erupted.
And in the middle of the chaos, I saw something worse than rage cross Kane’s face.
Recognition.
He had just understood that one hidden case was not the only thing that could bury him.
So he made the next move fast.
“Search Cole’s bunk,” he barked. “I want everything.”
May you like
My blood went cold.
Because under that bunk—unless somebody had already found it—was the sealed NCIS packet that proved I had never been aboard the Resolute by accident.
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