Chapter 7 - The Trial of Shadows
Six months passed.
Winter in Washington, D.C., arrived with a sharp, biting cold that frosted the stone steps of the federal courthouse in Alexandria, Virginia.
I stood outside the courtroom doors wearing my Service Dress Blues, my overcoat draped neatly over my arm. Beside me stood Garrett, now a proud junior officer who had spent the last five months completing his surface warfare qualification training in Japan, home on short emergency leave for the trial proceedings.
The double doors of the courtroom opened, and Agent Thomas walked out, holding a thick leather briefcase. He looked tired, but his eyes carried the quiet satisfaction of a completed mission.
“It’s over,” Thomas said, stepping up to us.
Garrett looked up, his jaw tight. “What’s the verdict?”
“Julian Mercer pled guilty forty-five minutes ago to two counts of federal procurement fraud and one count of bribing a foreign military liaison,” Thomas explained. “He’s facing twelve years in federal prison without parole.”
“And Evelyn?” I asked, my voice calm, level.
Thomas looked at me with a mixture of sympathy and respect. “Because she fully cooperated with federal prosecutors and provided the encrypted communications logs from her laptop that proved Mercer was using her without her full knowledge of the espionage elements, the prosecutor accepted a plea bargain.”
“What’s her sentence?” Garrett asked quietly.
“Three years of probation, a fifty-thousand-dollar civil fine, and three hundred hours of mandatory community service,” Thomas said. “She also had to surrender all financial assets tied to Apex Global Media.”
Garrett let out a long, slow breath. He closed his eyes for a second, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She’s broke.”
“She’s broke, she’s back in Ohio, and she’s legally barred from entering any military installation or contacting any defense personnel without prior federal clearance,” Thomas added. “Her public credibility is entirely gone.”
“Did she... did she ask about us?” Garrett murmured.
Thomas paused, looking down at his briefcase before looking up at Garrett. “She asked if you were going to post her bail money, Ensign. When I told her you were deployed overseas with the Pacific Fleet, she told the court officer that her children had 'abandoned her in her hour of need.'”
Garrett shook his head softly, a dry, sad smile playing on his lips. “She still doesn't get it.”
“She never will, Garrett,” I said gently, placing a hand on his back. “Some people spend their entire lives building a prison of their own design, and then blame the world for locking the door.”
“Commander Voss,” Thomas said, offering me his hand. “Your testimony and your immediate action six months ago in San Diego saved this department millions of dollars and protected sensitive operational data. On behalf of the Directorate, thank you.”
“Just doing my job, Agent Thomas,” I replied, shaking his hand firmly.
As Thomas walked down the wide marble hallway, Garrett turned to me, pulling his heavy winter navy coat tighter around his shoulders.
“What do we do now, Mara?”
May you like
I looked past him, through the grand glass windows of the courthouse foyer, out toward the snow falling gently over the Potomac River.
“Now,” I said, “we live our lives.”
