Chapter 5 - A CAMERA DOESN'T LIE
The security footage of the assault circulated among the investigators but not yet the public.
I was grateful for the quiet until I learned that someone had edited a shorter recording and sent it to Cole's unit.
In the shortened version, my sharpest words appeared before the violence while the kick itself was missing.
Anonymous captions accused me of impersonating a decorated officer and provoking a Marine.
Captain Vega showed me the clip in her office.
“I won't ask you to ignore it,” she said.
“I'd prefer you preserve it. Whoever cut this knows the original exists.”
She nodded and requested a digital trace of the sender.
Outside the office, Owen Reed was waiting on a bench with his cap crushed between both hands.
He admitted he'd laughed because the others were laughing, though he'd felt sick the moment my chair shattered.
“I'm not asking you to forgive me,” he said.
“Then tell the truth,” I answered.
Cole had ordered the four Marines to say I'd fallen after attempting to stand.
He'd also warned them that contradicting him would ruin their futures.
Owen produced a message thread in which Cole demanded that everyone “stick to the same version.”
Vega took a copy.
As Owen left, a second Marine, Corporal Finch, approached.
He offered to testify but worried Cole's father would intervene.
“The general's reputation has nothing to do with what happened to me,” I told him.
Yet I knew reputations could be used as shields.
That afternoon a civilian attorney named Lena Ward contacted me after hearing the case from Walter.
Lena had represented veterans whose injuries were dismissed by influential officers.
She asked me to preserve my medical records and avoid private conversations with Travis.
I agreed until she mentioned Meridian Strategic Services.
Her expression hardened when I repeated the name.
“My brother worked there,” she said.
“Did he leave?”
“He vanished.”
Her brother had disappeared fourteen months earlier while researching old procurement files.
The last page he'd printed contained only three words.
IRON LANTERN SURVIVORS.
Before Lena could explain more, her assistant rushed in carrying a courier parcel.
It was addressed to me in handwritten block capitals.
Inside lay the stolen photograph, folded into quarters.
May you like
Across my younger face someone had drawn a red X.
On the back was a message: Next time, the fall won't stop at your shoulder.
