In the study, Nia pulled her father's old Bible from his desk drawer. The leather was worn soft from years of handling. Her father had read from it every morning right up until the day he died.
"If armed men ever come to the house in daylight," he had told her once, "you use this number. Only in daylight, baby girl. That's when they think they're untouchable."
She had thought it was his PTSD talking. He had grown paranoid near the end, haunted by something he would not name. But he had made her memorize where to look.
Inside the cover, behind the dedication page, sweat dripped onto the thin pages as she opened it by lantern light. There, taped carefully to the inside cover, was a single sheet of paper. On it, written in her father's precise hand, was a phone number she had never seen before and three words: Pentagon direct line.
In the hushed darkness of her father's study, Nia's fingers trembled slightly as she dialed the number from the Bible. The lantern cast long shadows across the room while heavy boots scraped against her front porch. She could hear Kessler's rising frustration through the walls.
"Final warning, Ms. Ellison. Don't make us force entry."
Nia pressed the phone to her ear, heart pounding. One ring. Two rings. On the third, a crisp voice answered.
"Office of Special Operations Oversight."
"My name is Nia Ellison," she said, keeping her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her body. "I'm calling regarding service number 874-1944-21. Master Sergeant James Ellison."
A pause. "Go ahead."
Nia took a deep breath and spoke the phrase her father had made her memorize. "Daylight breach of Protocol Seven."
The line went dead silent. When the voice returned, it was sharp with alertness. "Status report."
"Unauthorized domestic retrieval operation in progress at my residence," Nia reported, falling back on her military training. "Fifteen local officers present, led by Sheriff Wade Larkin and Captain Roy Kessler. No warrant shown. Full perimeter established. Power cut. Attempts to isolate from witnesses."
"Are you recording?"
"Yes. Multiple devices. Cloud backup."
"Good. Maintain documentation. Do not surrender any materials. Stand by."
Through the window, Nia watched Kessler gesture angrily at his men. "Get those bolt cutters. She wants to play games. We'll show her games."
The Pentagon voice returned. "Ms. Ellison, repeat after me. Loud enough for your recordings. I formally request immediate warrant verification through federal channels."
Nia raised her voice clearly. "I formally request immediate warrant verification through federal channels."
"Again."