Nolan Price had spent years studying systems.
Not just computer systems.
Human ones.
By late afternoon, NCIS had reconstructed enough of his activity to understand the outline of his plan.
He knew Eli was ambitious.
He knew my family underestimated me.
He knew Claire’s connection gave him access to personal details.
And he knew I would arrive at Annapolis without creating a spectacle if something went wrong.
That last assumption bothered me most.
Because he had been correct.
Seven years earlier, when I was still a lieutenant commander working network defense, Price had been assigned to a joint exercise.
He discovered a vulnerability.
Instead of reporting it, he exploited it.
He accessed internal accounts without authorization and later argued he had been “proving the system was weak.”
I had been the investigating officer who signed the technical assessment demonstrating his actions were deliberate.
Price received formal disciplinary action.
His career recovered eventually.
His resentment did too.
He blamed me.
I barely remembered him.
That was how revenge often worked.
One person built their life around an injury the other had filed away and forgotten.
The secure operations center displayed his photograph.
Commander Nolan Price.
Forty-four.
Dark hair going gray at the temples.
Decorated.
Respected by his sailors.
Excellent evaluations for five consecutive years.
No one in Eli’s chain of command suspected he was capable of compromising Navy systems.
Eli sat at the end of the table.
His white uniform jacket was gone.
He wore a plain undershirt, sleeves rolled up, looking less like the golden son from the morning and more like an exhausted officer.
I addressed him professionally.
“Walk me through the rehearsal dinner.”
He nodded.
“Price arrived around nineteen hundred.”
“Drinking?”
“One bourbon. Maybe two.”
“Did he approach your jacket?”
“I didn’t see him.”
“Who did?”
Eli looked at Claire.
She was seated beside an NCIS agent.
Claire spoke.
“I saw him near the coatroom.”
“When?”
“Maybe nine-thirty.”
“Doing what?”
“Talking to a waiter.”
“What waiter?”
She frowned.
“I don’t know.”
NCIS already had restaurant footage.
Within thirty minutes, they identified the waiter.
Except he was not an employee.
He had entered through a service corridor wearing a borrowed uniform and left before the dinner ended.
Price had not worked alone.
Admiral Whitaker folded his arms.
“Foreign connection?”
Agent Haines answered.
“Unknown.”
“Financial?”
“Possibly.”
“How much?”
“Price received three deposits over eighteen months through shell entities. Total just under four hundred thousand.”
Eli looked physically ill.
“I worked for him every day.”
Nobody responded.
He looked at me.
“I trusted him.”
I understood that pain more than he knew.
Trust was not stupidity.
But ignored warning signs could become negligence.
“Did he ever ask about my work?”
Eli thought.
“Once.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you did cyber stuff.”
Despite everything, I smiled slightly.
Eli noticed.
“Yeah.”
“That precise?”
“Very.”
A few officers almost smiled.
The tension loosened for half a second.
Then Eli continued.
“He asked if you had command authority.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I doubted it.”
The faint humor died.
He looked ashamed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Focus.”
He nodded.
“He asked whether you traveled overseas.”
“And?”
“I said probably conferences.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“I didn’t know.”
That phrase had followed us all day.
I didn’t know.
The great defense.
The great tragedy.
Price had exploited ignorance more effectively than he exploited software.
Paige approached.
“Admiral, vehicle camera footage.”
The main display changed.
Price’s government SUV had traveled northwest from Annapolis.
Then stopped beneath an overpass.
Another vehicle appeared.
A dark pickup.
Price transferred two bags.
The pickup’s plate had been obscured.
“Where next?”
“Traffic camera caught a similar vehicle near Fort Meade.”
That got everyone’s attention.
“NSA corridor?” Whitaker asked.
“Possibly.”
Haines stood.
“We have teams searching.”
I studied the map.
Price was smart.
Running toward one of the most surveilled security regions in the country did not make sense.
Unless he wanted us looking there.
“Go back.”
Paige rewound the footage.
“Stop.”
The image froze.
Price stood between his SUV and the pickup.
“What’s that?”
“Bag.”
“No. Behind him.”
Alvarez zoomed in.
A small reflection appeared on the guardrail.
White hull.
Water.
I leaned forward.
“Location of the overpass?”
“Near the Patapsco.”
“Boat access?”
Haines looked at an agent.
“Check.”
Within seconds, satellite mapping filled the display.
A small marina sat less than half a mile away.
Price had transferred bags because he wanted us following the truck.
Maybe he had gone somewhere else entirely.
“Marina cameras.”
Paige nodded.
“Working.”
Eli stood.
“I know that marina.”
I looked at him.
“How?”
“Price keeps a boat there.”
The room froze.
“You’re sure?”
“He took officers fishing last summer.”
“Boat name?”
Eli closed his eyes.
“Second Chance.”
NCIS moved instantly.
Twenty-three minutes later, surveillance confirmed the slip was empty.
Price had taken the boat before sunrise.
The Chesapeake suddenly became our search area.
Dad called during the operation.
I nearly ignored it.
Then I answered.
“What?”
“Your mother wants to leave.”
“Then leave.”
“She wants you to come with us.”
I closed my eyes.
“Dad, I’m running an active security response.”
“I know.”
“Does she?”
Pause.
“She’s frightened.”
“So am I.”
That surprised him.
Maybe it surprised me too.
Flag officers are supposed to project calm.
People often confuse calm with absence of fear.
Fear was there.
Fear for compromised operations.
Fear for Eli.
Fear that Price knew enough about my family to predict us.
Dad lowered his voice.
“What can I do?”
For the first time, he was asking instead of assuming.
“Keep Mom away from social media.”
“She doesn’t—”
“She posts everything.”
Pause.
“You’re right.”
“Keep the family together. Don’t discuss where I am.”
“I understand.”
“And Dad?”
“Yes?”
“If someone contacts you about me, Eli, or the ceremony, tell NCIS immediately.”
His answer came without hesitation.
“I will.”
I ended the call.
Ten minutes later, the call came anyway.
Not to Dad.
To Mom.
She answered before he could stop her.
The caller claimed to be from Navy public affairs.
He asked whether I was still at Annapolis.
Mom told him yes.
Then he asked whether Eli had been released.
She said she thought so.
Dad grabbed the phone.
The line disconnected.
When NCIS traced it, the number led nowhere.
Paige delivered the news.
I did not yell.
I wanted to.
Instead, I asked, “What else did she say?”
“Only that you were still on the Yard.”
Price already knew enough.
But now we knew something too.
He was monitoring the family.
Which meant he cared where I was.
“Why?” Eli asked.
I looked at the map.
Because maybe revenge had never been the whole plan.
Maybe blocking me from the briefing was not meant merely to humiliate me.
Maybe he needed me somewhere else.
A technician called out.
“Admiral, we’ve got the boat.”
The display shifted.
A Coast Guard aircraft had spotted Second Chance moving south.
“Position?”
“Near the mouth of the Severn.”
That made no sense.
He had not fled.
He had circled back toward Annapolis.
“Destination?”
“Unknown.”
Then Paige’s face changed.
“Wait.”
She looked at another screen.
“What?”
“Price’s boat registration lists a secondary docking authorization.”
“Where?”
She looked at me.
“Naval support facility across the river.”
Everyone moved at once.
Security alerts went out.
Gates locked.
Patrol units redirected.
Eli came beside me.
“What is there?”
“Communications infrastructure.”
His face went pale.
Price was not escaping.
He was returning to finish what he had started.
And whatever he planned to access next was important enough for him to risk everything.
I looked at Eli.
“You stay here.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“He used me.”
“And I’m not letting him use you twice.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’m an officer.”
“You’re also part of the compromised chain.”
“That doesn’t make me useless.”
The words landed harder than he intended.
Because useless was how our family had treated me for years.
I looked at him.
“No. It doesn’t.”
His expression changed.
I continued.
“You work with Haines. Give him everything about Price’s procedures.”
Eli nodded slowly.
It was not what he wanted.
But he understood.
I headed toward the operations floor.
Before I reached the door, he called after me.
“Anna.”
I turned.
“I was wrong about you.”
I studied him.
“This isn’t the time.”
“I know.”
He swallowed.
“But if I don’t say it now, I’ll find another excuse.”
For once, my brother understood something before I did.
He continued.
“I thought Dad being proud of me meant I was better than you.”
The room around us disappeared.
“I liked it.”
His honesty surprised me.
“I knew they overlooked you.”
He looked down.
“And I never corrected them because it made me feel important.”
I said nothing.
He met my eyes again.
“I’m sorry.”
There was no dramatic hug.
No instant forgiveness.
Real families rarely heal on schedule.
But something shifted.
Not enough to erase years.
Enough to begin.
I nodded once.
“Help us stop Price.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
It was the first time my brother had ever called me that.
And somehow, coming from him, it sounded less like rank than respect.
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