Chapter 3: The Ocean Was Not My Grave
The Pacific was supposed to be the end of my story.
That was what Victor Kane believed.
He believed the ocean would erase everything.
My testimony.
The evidence packet.
The names of the people who had disappeared.
But the ocean did something Kane never expected.
It gave me time.
Time to think.
Time to survive.
Time to remember every face watching from that rail.
When I first broke through the surface, I couldn’t hear anything except my own heartbeat.
The Resolute was already hundreds of feet away.
The massive ship cut through the water like nothing had happened.
Like a man had not just been thrown overboard.
Like five hundred witnesses had not just watched a crime.
My uniform pulled me downward.
My boots felt like anchors.
Every instinct screamed at me to panic.
But panic killed people in the water.
Training saved them.
I forced myself to breathe.
Slow.
Controlled.
I removed anything that was dragging me down.
The ocean stretched in every direction.
No rescue boat.
No radio.
No one coming.
For several minutes, I swam.
Not toward the ship.
Away from it.
Because I knew something.
If Kane wanted me gone, he wouldn’t leave evidence behind.
He would make sure the official story said I disappeared.
An accident.
A mistake.
A tragic loss.
I needed to stay alive long enough to stop that.
The sun burned my face.
The waves pushed me around like I weighed nothing.
Then I saw something floating ahead.
A damaged emergency marker.
Probably knocked loose during one of the ship’s previous operations.
I grabbed onto it.
For the first time since falling, I allowed myself to breathe.
And that was when I noticed the small waterproof pouch attached beneath it.
Inside was a signal flare.
A compact emergency transmitter.
Someone had prepared this equipment for situations exactly like this.
I pressed the activation button.
Nothing happened.
The battery was dead.
I almost laughed.
Even the ocean seemed to be working against me.
Then I remembered the evidence packet.
The one Kane wanted.
The one he thought he had destroyed.
The one he thought was hidden forever.
But there was something else inside that packet.
A backup communication device.
A small NCIS beacon.
I had placed it there after a previous investigation because I trusted evidence more than people.
Now I needed to know if it still worked.
I reached into my inner uniform pocket.
The fabric was torn.
The pocket was almost gone.
But somehow, the device was still there.
I pressed the button.
A tiny light blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then a weak signal appeared.
I closed my eyes.
For the first time since Kane pushed me, I felt something other than anger.
Hope.
The rescue came nearly two hours later.
A small patrol vessel found me drifting near the coordinates from the beacon.
The sailors who pulled me aboard looked shocked.
One of them stared at my uniform.
“Sir, how long were you out there?””
I tried to answer.
My throat barely worked.
“Long enough.””
They wrapped me in a thermal blanket.
The young officer helping me looked toward the direction of the Resolute.
“That ship reported you missing.””
I looked at him.
“Missing?””
He nodded.
“They said you fell during a training incident.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
Training incident.
That was the story.
Already prepared.
Already delivered.
I sat up despite the pain.
“Who reported it?””
The officer hesitated.
Then answered.
“Colonel Kane.””
Of course.
I looked down at my hands.
The same hands that had held onto the evidence.
The same hands that had almost slipped beneath the water.
Kane had not just tried to kill me.
He had already written the explanation.
By the time I reached the temporary naval station, my injuries were documented.
But something bothered me.
The medical officer examining me kept looking at the doorway.
Like he expected someone to enter.
Finally, I asked:
“Who are you waiting for?””
He stopped writing.
“I’m not.””
“You are.””
Silence.
Then he sighed.
“You should leave this alone.””
I stared at him.
“That’s what everyone says.””
“Because everyone who doesn’t gets hurt.””
“Like me?””
His expression changed.
“Yes.””
I leaned forward.
“What happened to the others?””
The officer looked at the closed door.
Then lowered his voice.
“Marcus Bell.””
The name from the packet.
“He tried to expose Deck Four.””
“What happened?””
“He vanished.””
“Sarah Cole?””
The officer looked surprised.
“You know her name?””
“I know all their names.””
He stepped back.
“Then you know why Kane is afraid.””
That caught my attention.
“Afraid?””
The officer nodded.
“People think men like Kane are powerful because they have no fear.””
He looked directly at me.
“They are powerful because everyone else is afraid.””
Before I could ask another question, the door opened.
A commander entered.
His face was serious.
“Lieutenant, NCIS wants to speak with you.””
For the first time all day, I felt like I wasn’t fighting alone.
The NCIS agent arrived thirty minutes later.
Her name was Agent Rachel Morgan.
She didn’t waste time with introductions.
She placed a folder on the table.
“We received your beacon signal.””
I nodded.
“Then you know what happened.””
Her expression remained unreadable.
“We know what you claim happened.””
That word bothered me.
Claim.
I looked at her.
“You don’t believe me?””
“I believe you survived.””
A pause.
“I don’t know yet what happened before that.””
I understood immediately.
Kane had rank.
Authority.
Connections.
A colonel’s word carried weight.
A lieutenant accusing him had to prove everything.
I opened my bag.
Removed the surviving pages from the evidence packet.
Agent Morgan’s expression changed.
“You still have them?””
“Yes.””
She carefully examined the documents.
For several minutes, she said nothing.
Then she reached the final page.
The one with Kane’s name.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Where did you get this?””
“Under my bunk.””
“That’s impossible.””
“Why?””
“Because this file was supposed to be destroyed six months ago.””
The room became quiet.
I looked at her.
“Destroyed by who?””
Agent Morgan closed the folder.
Then she said something that changed everything.
“By NCIS.””
I felt my stomach drop.
Someone inside the investigation had been helping Kane.
Agent Morgan stood.
“We need to move you somewhere secure.””
“Why?””
She looked toward the window.
Because outside, a black vehicle had just stopped near the building.
And someone inside was watching us.
“Because Colonel Kane isn’t the only person who knows you survived.””
The vehicle door opened.
A man stepped out.
Agent Morgan’s face went pale.
Because she recognized him.
May you like
And she whispered:
“That’s impossible.””
