Frozen Barracks

The conference room smelled like burnt coffee and wet wool. Catherine Vance stood at the head of the table, coat still on, while Captain Rebecca Miller slid three folders into place and woke up the screen.

Major Marcus Briggs came in with two aides and a face that said he’d rather be anywhere else. He stopped when he saw the NCIS agents by the wall.

“Ma’am,” he said. His hand went halfway up and stopped.

Catherine didn’t move. “Sit down, Colonel.”

Briggs sat. He looked at the folders, then at her coat. Snowmelt was still beading on the shoulders.

Miller opened the first file. Photos. Radiators in Barracks 4, tagged with frost. Men in undershirts over blankets. A handwritten work order stamped DENIED. Then came the banquet invoice.

“Dinner last night cost twelve thousand dollars,” Miller said. “Catering, band, flowers, sound package.”

Briggs swallowed. “That was a command event.”

“Barracks 4 has been without auxiliary heat for sixteen days.”

One NCIS agent pushed over another stack. Maintenance logs. A depot inventory. Three shipping pallets marked as issued, then found empty.

Catherine tapped one page with one finger. “Four hundred thousand dollars for a boiler replacement. Denied twice.”

Briggs wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “We were waiting on funding approval.”

“You had funding for filet mignon.”

Nobody spoke for a second. The HVAC vent clicked above them, useless and cold.

Miller turned the screen. Security footage. A depot fence line in snow. Unmarked trucks backing up to a loading dock. Men in dark parkas passing crates from a freight container to the trucks. One crate had a Marine supply stencil still on the side.

Catherine leaned closer. “Time stamp.”

“0217,” Miller said. “Last night.”

Briggs stared at the screen like it might change if he looked hard enough.

Then another photo came up. Preston Hale’s brother, Kevin, standing by the rear truck with a clipboard, cap pulled low.

Catherine looked from the image to Briggs. “You knew the family was involved.”

“I knew there were rumors.”

“Rumors don’t move crates.”

Briggs opened his mouth, then shut it.

The door cracked open. A sergeant stepped in, pale under the lights. “Ma’am. Major Hale rammed the south barrier. He’s off the base.”

Catherine straightened the stack of papers in front of her. “Get me the route log. Now.”

She looked at Miller. “Wake up everyone. We’re done pretending this is one bad officer.”