Chapter 2 - The Voice That Freezes The Sea-Tac VIP Lounge
“Petty Officer Miller, release her hoodie this instant or you’ll spend the next year scrubbing submarine bilge water.”
The commanding voice belonged to Captain Thomas Vance, a seasoned Navy officer whose reputation preceded him across every command base.
Miller’s hand froze mid-grip, his knuckles whitening against the dark fabric of my gray hoodie as absolute shock registered on his face.
The arrogant smirk that had defined his expression seconds ago collapsed into a mask of sudden, paralyzing dread.
Slowly, Miller released his grip, stepping backward as though my jacket had suddenly turned into burning hot iron coals.
Every single operator, airman, and contractor in the Sea-Tac VIP lounge held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
Captain Vance walked forward, his polished shoes clicking sharply against the polished concrete floor of the terminal lounge.
He didn't look at Miller; instead, his sharp eyes locked directly onto me with deep, professional respect.
“Colonel Vance, I apologize for the conduct of this undisciplined enlisted man in my command,” Captain Vance stated formally.
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The entire room went dead silent as the title ‘Colonel’ echoed off the walls, shattering Miller’s worldview completely.
***
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