“I need your range log for the previous six months, including safety removals, qualification interruptions, and any overridden decisions.”
Kane said, “Those records belong to this command.”
“They belong to the government.”
“You will follow proper procedure.”
“I am.”
The radio crackled again.
“Assessment team entering through the south gate.
Two vehicles.
Estimated arrival, two minutes.”
The young lieutenants turned toward the access road.
Dust rose beyond the berm.
Kane stared at the commander.
“You brought an investigative team onto my installation without notifying me?”
“You were notified that an external readiness review could occur during this quarter.”
“Not this.”
“Advance warning would have changed the behavior being measured.”
The first vehicle appeared beyond the fence, followed by a second.
Both were plain, sand-colored utility trucks with no readable markings.
They stopped beside Range Control.
Four personnel stepped out: a legal officer, a weapons safety specialist, a senior investigator, and a medical corps representative assigned to review injury and intimidation reports.
No one rushed.
No one made a show of authority.
That calm frightened Brooks more than shouting would have.
The investigator approached Lane 7 and presented credentials to Ellis, then to Kane.
“Admiral, we need the range preserved as it is.
No logs altered, no recordings deleted, and no personnel dismissed until names are taken.”
Kane’s expression became rigid.
“You are treating a few careless remarks as misconduct.”
The investigator looked at the commander’s recorder.
“The remarks are only the beginning.”
The legal officer opened a case folder.
Inside were copies of three complaints.
The first described a junior instructor ordered back onto duty after reporting an unsafe firing position used by a visiting officer.
The second described an enlisted armorer publicly mocked after refusing to release a rifle with an unresolved headspace concern.
The third came from a shooter who claimed Brooks had overridden a cease-fire warning because Kane’s guests were behind schedule.
Ellis read the dates.
He recognized all three incidents.
His face seemed to age as he stood there.
“I filed supporting notes on the second complaint,” he said.
“They disappeared from the range packet.”
Kane turned sharply.
“Are you accusing my staff of destroying records?”
“I’m saying what I wrote was there, and then it wasn’t.”
Brooks’s breathing grew shallow.
The commander saw it.
“So did the original cease-fire entry,” she said.
Brooks looked at her.
“You don’t know that.”
The weapons safety specialist lifted a tablet.
“We recovered the automated range-control backup this morning.”
Brooks went pale.
The digital system had preserved time stamps independently of the paper log.
At 1038 on the date of the third complaint, a cease-fire had been entered.
Forty-one seconds later, an administrative override had cleared it.
The override required an officer credential.
The credential belonged to Brooks.
