Chapter 3 - THE ACCUSER’S COLLAPSE
The Accuser tried to regain her footing, her pearl necklace rattling against her throat as she struggled to inhale.
"General, this is a civilian courtroom, and you have no jurisdiction to intervene in this specific trial," she stammered, her voice thin.
Vance turned his head slowly, his peaked cap casting a shadow over his eyes, making him look like a vengeful statue.
"I am not here to intervene in the trial, Counselor," he stated, stepping into her personal space.
"I am here to oversee the security clearance of an active-duty intelligence officer you have just publicly defamed," he continued.
The Accuser stepped back, her crimson suit suddenly appearing garish and desperate against the solemn, austere backdrop of the military uniform.
She looked to the judge for support, but the judge was already removing his glasses, his face pale with sudden apprehension.
The Defendant remained perfectly still, her dark hair pulled into that strict bun, her expression remaining entirely, eerily blank.
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She had spent three years in the deepest shadows of government ops, and she knew exactly how this game was played.
"We have the records," Vance said, turning back to the court, "and this trial ends the moment you realize who you are attacking."
