“Ma’am,” he said quietly, “Commander Whitaker is unavailable.”
Olivia looked beyond him toward the administration offices. Her husband’s black Tahoe remained parked in the reserved command space.
“Unavailable?” she repeated. “He told our son he would eat lunch with him today.”
Harris swallowed nervously.
Ethan tugged at her sleeve.
“Mom?”
The guard glanced at the boy before meeting Olivia’s eyes again. Something in his expression finally gave way.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. His girlfriend is inside the unit. No visitors.”
For three seconds, everything went silent.
Olivia reacted instantly. She pressed both hands over Ethan’s ears before the words could settle inside him. But the boy had already read the guard’s face. He had already watched his mother lose her color.
Inside the administration building, a woman wearing a cream-colored coat appeared near a second-floor window, laughing into her phone. Olivia recognized her immediately: Serena Vale, the civilian contractor whose “strategic consulting firm” had obtained emergency funding through a nonprofit account overseen by Olivia’s family.
