Chapter 10 - The Reckoning of Unit Raven
Senator Bradley leaned over the podium, a frantic sweat breaking across his forehead beneath the hot television lights.
“This… this is an unauthorized disruption of an official congressional proceeding!” Bradley sputtered into the microphone.
“Security, remove these people from the floor immediately!” he shouted, waving wildly toward the Capitol Police.
Not a single officer moved, every guard standing with their eyes fixed forward in rigid, unbroken discipline.
General Vance stepped up to the secondary microphone, his voice cutting through the panic like an artillery shell.
“The United States Army Provost Marshal and the Federal Bureau of Investigation have joint jurisdiction here, Senator,” Vance stated.
Sarah Lin stepped forward, plugging an encrypted flash drive directly into the podium’s broadcast media interface.
Above the podium, the massive ceremonial video screen flickered, replacing Bradley’s campaign logo with an official military seal.
A raspy, panicked voice from twenty-four years ago suddenly boomed through every speaker in the rotunda.
“Valkyrie, this is Bradley at station alpha, do not attempt extraction! I repeat, let the team burn!” the recording screamed.
“The Serbian convoy must pass without interference; your unit is officially disavowed! Stand down and let them die!” the audio continued.
A collective gasp ripped through the crowd of senators, diplomats, and international journalists.
Camera lenses zoomed in on Bradley’s face as the undeniable recording of his treason played for the entire world to hear.
Bradley collapsed backward into his leather chair, clutching his chest as federal agents in dark suits stepped onto the stage.
“Senator Robert Bradley, you are under arrest for treason, conspiracy to commit murder, and financial fraud,” an FBI agent declared.
The handcuffs clicked loudly against the senator’s wrists, the sound picked up by dozens of live network feeds.
As they dragged the disgraced politician past the podium, Bradley looked at me with wild, terror-stricken eyes.
“You were supposed to be dead, Carter!” Bradley screamed, his voice echoing off the stained-glass ceiling.
“Unit Raven doesn't die, Bradley,” I told him coldly. “We just wait in the shadows until the debt comes due.”
Franklin Hayes tried to scramble out of his row, his eyes darting toward the exits as reporters swarmed the chamber.
Two military police officers intercepted Franklin before he could reach the heavy wooden doors.
“Franklin Hayes, you are being recalled to active duty under the Uniform Code of Military Justice for stolen valor and fraud,” an officer stated.
Franklin’s knees buckled, and he was dragged away in complete ignominy, weeping like a child before the national press.
Caleb stepped forward, coming to rigid attention before me on the marble floor of the nation’s capital.
He raised his white-gloved hand in a textbook, flawless salute, his eyes shining with tears of deep, unshakeable respect.
“Permission to report to your command, Major Carter,” Caleb said, his voice ringing with pure clarity.
I looked at my son, the boy I had raised with scarred mechanic’s hands in a dusty garage while keeping the world safe.
I returned his salute with steady, unwavering precision, the ghosts of Miller and Kowalski finally resting in peace behind us.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant,” I replied, my voice strong and clear.
General Vance walked over, holding an open red folder bearing the highest presidential seal of intelligence.
“Major Carter, there is one more thing,” Vance said quietly, handing me an unredacted dossier marked Operation Citadel.
“Bradley wasn't acting alone twenty-four years ago,” Vance whispered, leaning close to my ear.
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“The man who ordered Unit Raven erased is currently sitting in the West Wing, waiting for your next move,” Vance warned.
I gripped the classified file, feeling the old, familiar fire of war igniting once again in my blood.
