Paper Trail

The NCIS evidence room smelled like toner and cold coffee. Catherine stood at the center of it with her hands behind her back while Captain Miller laid three folders on the table, then a fourth, then a slim drive case.

Two agents watched the door. Briggs sat in a chair by the wall, tie loosened, face shiny with sweat. He kept looking at the folders like they might bite him.

“Start with the numbers,” Catherine said.

Miller opened the first folder. “Barracks 4 has been without auxiliary heat for sixteen days. Maintenance requests were logged. Requisitions were denied or ignored.”

Catherine turned one page. The paper was still warm from the copier.

“Now the banquet,” Miller said. “Twelve thousand for catering. Eight and a half for sound and lights. Just under twenty-three thousand total.”

Briggs made a small sound in his throat.

Catherine didn’t look at him. “And the boiler?”

“Four hundred thousand,” Miller said. “Estimate came up twice. No action.”

One of the agents slid a stack of photos across the table. Snow. A side road near the depot. Unmarked trucks backed to a warehouse door. Men in parkas loading sealed military crates while the drift piled against their boots.

Catherine held on the top photo a second longer. “Time stamp.”

“Two nights ago,” the agent said. “Same route Hale used on leave. Same vehicle class.”

Briggs sat forward. “Major General, I need to be clear—”

Catherine raised one finger.

He stopped.

She looked at Miller. “Where is he now?”

“Gate log says his Range Rover hit the south barrier at 0410,” Miller said. “Before lockdown tightened. He got through on the logging road. Security lost him near the coastal warehouse.”

Catherine took that in without moving.

“His brother’s company,” she said.

Miller nodded once. “Front contracts. Shell billing. The accounting team found the name in three payment chains.”

Briggs rubbed both hands over his face. “This is going to detonate the base.”

“It already did,” Catherine said.

Her phone buzzed. She read the text, then set it face down.

“Update?” Miller asked.

Catherine stood still for one more beat. “Hale fled armed. He’s no longer a personnel problem.”

She looked at the door, then at Briggs.

“Pack your office. You’re done here.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

Catherine picked up the drive case. “And get me the next convoy schedule.”

She was already moving when Miller said, low and sharp, “Ma’am, the audit team just found another warehouse tag. Same family name. This one’s off Highway 17.”

Catherine stopped at the threshold.

“Then we go now.”