Chapter 428: Replacement???
Sterling Enterprises.
Cinder Square.
Miles stood near the large windows of his office, phone held against his ear.
"I received the report."
He turned away from the window.
"Just summarize it for me."
Charles' voice came through the call.
"Alright."
There was a brief pause as he opened the file.
"Lieutenant Colonel Marcus Vane."
Miles walked back toward his desk.
"Originally from Citadel City."
"No wife."
"No children."
"No surviving parents."
"No siblings that we could confirm."
"He lives alone."
Miles slowly sat down.
"So nothing to lose."
"Externally..."
Charles hesitated.
"...nothing."
Miles' fingers tapped once against the desk.
"How old?"
"Forty-three."
Miles frowned slightly.
"And how long has he been serving?"
"Twenty years."
Charles continued,
"He joined the military when he was twenty-three."
"As a commissioned officer?"
"No."
Miles stopped tapping.
"As a regular soldier?"
"Yes."
That caught his attention.
Miles leaned back.
"So he earned his way through the ranks."
"Looks like it."
Charles began listing them.
"Soldier."
"Sergeant."
"Second Lieutenant."
"First Lieutenant."
"Captain."
"Then Lieutenant Colonel."
Miles' eyes narrowed.
"Wait."
Charles already knew what he had noticed.
Miles leaned forward.
"He skipped Major."
"Yes."
Silence.
Miles looked toward the file June had placed on his desk earlier.
"That doesn't happen casually."
"No."
Charles replied,
"That's what made me dig deeper."
Miles asked,
"When?"
"Fourteen years ago."
Miles became still.
"Fourteen?"
"Exactly."
Miles slowly repeated the number in his head.
Vane was forty-three now.
Fourteen years ago...
Twenty-nine.
Miles frowned.
"You're telling me this man joined the military at twenty-three..."
"Then became a Lieutenant Colonel six years later?"
Charles sighed.
"That's what the records say."
Miles leaned back.
"No way."
He stared toward the ceiling for a moment.
"A soldier."
"To Sergeant."
"Then commissioned."
"Then Captain."
"Then directly Lieutenant Colonel."
"All inside six years?"
"Yes."
Charles continued,
"And before you ask..."
"His service record is almost perfect."
Miles lowered his eyes.
"Almost?"
"Actually..."
Charles corrected himself.
"It is perfect."
Miles' expression changed.
"Explain."
"Commendations."
"Combat citations."
"Several medals."
"Excellent evaluation reports."
"No disciplinary record."
"No insubordination."
"No failed operation attached to his name."
"No stain on the uniform."
Miles remained silent for several seconds.
Then quietly asked,
"So what earned him the direct promotion?"
"That's where things become strange."
Miles waited.
Charles continued,
"Fourteen years ago..."
"Marcus Vane was temporarily transferred out of regular military service."
"Transferred where?"
"Secret Service."
Miles' eyes narrowed sharply.
"Secret Service?"
"Yes."
Charles paused.
"He was assigned to the security detail of Vice President Vivienne Horrow."
Miles stared ahead.
The name immediately stayed in his mind.
"That's quite a jump."
"It is."
Miles leaned back.
"A young officer from a border battalion suddenly gets selected for the Vice President's personal security?"
"Exactly."
Miles frowned.
"Did he get injured?"
"Request reassignment?"
"Any issue at the border?"
"Nothing in the record."
"No explanation at all?"
"None that I could find."
Miles slowly rubbed his thumb against his index finger.
Charles continued,
"He worked with the Secret Service."
"Then shortly afterward..."
"Vice President Vivienne Horrow personally recommended him for promotion."
Miles' eyes narrowed.
"To Lieutenant Colonel."
"Yes."
"And then?"
"He returned to the border."
Miles stared at nothing.
"That makes no sense."
Charles agreed immediately.
"That's exactly what I thought."
Miles stood again.
He began walking slowly around the desk.
"You don't pull a man from the border."
"Put him beside the Vice President."
"Give him a rank jump."
"Then send him back where he came from..."
"...without a reason."
Charles remained silent.
Miles stopped.
"What did you find?"
Charles exhaled.
"I started looking at the battalion itself."
Miles listened.
"Fourteen years ago..."
"The previous Lieutenant Colonel of that same battalion died."
Miles' eyes sharpened.
"How?"
Charles became quieter.
"In his apartment."
Miles didn't move.
"Mysteriously."
"During his leave."
Miles' fingers slowly tightened around the phone.
"Cause?"
Charles answered,
"Three gunshots."
Everything inside Miles went cold.
For a moment...
Adam's face returned.
His smile.
His voice.
Three shots.
Miles spoke slowly.
"Three..."
"Yes."
Miles' expression changed completely.
"Let me guess."
He looked toward the city outside.
"The previous Lieutenant Colonel had no family either."
Charles went silent for half a second.
Then...
"None."
Miles closed his eyes.
The pattern was becoming uglier.
"He was replaced."
Charles replied,
"By Marcus Vane."
Miles opened his eyes again.
"Immediately?"
"Within weeks."
Miles didn't like how clean that sounded.
He walked back toward the desk.
"Charles."
"Yes, Boss?"
"The previous Lieutenant Colonel."
"What else is common?"
Charles had already checked.
"Both were promoted through recommendations from Vice President Vivienne Horrow."
Miles stopped.
There it was again.
The same name.
He slowly sat down.
"Vivienne Horrow..."
His jaw tightened.
Charles continued,
"I checked her history."
"She has recommended promotions for several officers throughout her career."
Miles remained quiet.
"Most of them have excellent service records."
"Decorated personnel."
"People with strong careers."
"So..."
Charles paused carefully.
"This could still be coincidence."
Miles leaned back.
"A very large coincidence."
"Yes."
Miles closed his eyes for several seconds.
"Everyone knows she is close to the President's family."
Charles nodded on the other end.
"Very close."
"Which makes this even more complicated."
Miles opened his eyes.
"We don't touch her."
Charles understood immediately.
"Not without evidence."
"Exactly."
Miles looked toward the file on his screen.
"Maybe she has absolutely nothing to do with this."
"Maybe she simply recommended talented officers."
"Maybe Vane really impressed her while working Secret Service."
He paused.
"But..."
Charles waited.
Miles continued,
"Why hasn't he been promoted again?"
Silence.
Miles leaned forward.
"Fourteen years."
"Decorated officer."
"Clean record."
"Excellent evaluations."
"Combat experience."
"Direct promotion at twenty-nine."
"And he's still Lieutenant Colonel at forty-three?"
Charles sighed.
"That's the part I couldn't explain."
"He should have become Colonel years ago."
Miles nodded.
"At minimum."
"With this kind of record..."
"He should already be competing for General rank."
"Exactly."
Miles tapped the desk again.
"So either someone deliberately kept him in that position..."
"...or he wanted to remain there."
Charles became quiet.
That possibility felt worse.
Miles continued,
"And we need to remember something."
"What?"
"We only know Marcus Vane's name because Adam reached him."
Miles looked toward Adam's photograph on another screen.
"We still don't know whether Vane actually did anything."
Charles replied,
"True."
"We have patterns."
"Connections."
"Suspicious history."
"But no direct proof."
Miles suddenly slapped his palm against the desk.
The sound echoed through the office.
June looked up from the other side of the room.
Miles' voice became frustrated.
"We have names."
"Dead soldiers."
"Money."
"Government records."
"Fake funerals."
"Now an officer with a ridiculous career history."
"And still..."
"We don't know what any of it means."
Charles remained quiet.
After a moment...
Miles asked,
"When does Vane leave the base?"
Charles answered almost immediately.
"You'll see him in a few days."
Miles looked up.
"In Citadel?"
"Yes."
"He's scheduled to be there."
Miles' expression became thoughtful.
Charles continued,
"Don't worry, Boss."
"If Adam reached Marcus Vane..."
"Then there is something there."
Miles stared toward the window.
Charles added,
"And we have another lead now."
Miles already knew.
"Lincoln Ice Factory."
"Yes."
Charles' voice became firmer.
"The Secret Service mentioned it to you today."
"Our team will be there tonight."
Miles looked toward the desk.
"We'll find out why Adam was investigating that factory before he died."
Miles slowly loosened his fist.
The anger remained.
But his voice became calmer.
"Charles."
"Yes?"
"Make sure everyone is safe."
Charles paused.
Miles looked toward Adam's photograph.
"I don't want more casualties."
"No heroics."
"No unnecessary risks."
"Understood."
Charles' answer was immediate.
"I'll take care of it, Boss."
Miles nodded.
"Keep me updated."
"Always."
The call ended.
Miles lowered the phone.
For several seconds, he simply sat there.
Vivienne Horrow.
Marcus Vane.
Three shots.
Lincoln Ice Factory.
Too many pieces.
Not enough picture.
June watched him quietly.
Then finally asked,
"You alright, Boss?"
Miles looked toward her.
"Yeah."
"I'm good."
She didn't look convinced.
But she didn't push.
Instead, she picked up another file.
"Please visit The Atelier before going home."
Miles blinked.
"Hun?"
June smiled.
"The deal."
Miles remembered.
"Oh."
"It's finalized."
June placed the documents before him.
"You officially own the beach property."
Miles looked at the signature pages.
"The transfer went through?"
"Everything."
"Payment confirmed."
"Registration updated."
"The seller has handed over possession."
Miles smiled faintly.
"That was fast."
June crossed her arms.
"You told me not to stretch negotiations."
"Fair."
She continued,
"You should tell Aunt Elena yourself."
Miles looked toward her.
"Why me?"
June stared.
Miles laughed.
"Okay."
June smiled.
"Get a bouquet."
"Something nice."
"Tell them the news."
Miles nodded.
"Good idea."
The tension in his face finally softened a little.
"At least someone gets good news today."
...
Citadel City.
Rosewood.
Vivienne stood alone inside her private study.
The curtains were drawn.
The lights were dim.
Her phone was pressed tightly against her ear.
Her expression was nothing like the warm woman who served dinner to Nick and Evelyn.
"How the hell..."
Her voice was low.
"...is the Secret Service investigating the ice factory?"
Marcus Vane remained calm on the other end.
"The factory is clean."
Vivienne's eyes sharpened.
"Don't give me that."
Vane continued,
"We don't leave evidence behind once the work is finished."
"No documents."
"No equipment."
"No biological material."
"No traceable records."
Vivienne walked toward the window.
"You're missing the point."
Vane became quiet.
"If ordinary police were investigating..."
"I wouldn't care."
"If some local department sent inspectors..."
"I wouldn't care."
She turned.
"But this is the Secret Service."
Her expression hardened.
"They will scrape the walls."
"Break the floors."
"Check pipes."
"Search drains."
"Dig through every old report."
"Cross-check every employee."
"They don't need to find something obvious."
"They only need to find one inconsistency."
Vane remained silent.
Vivienne's voice became colder.
"Burn it."
A pause.
Vane asked,
"Tonight?"
Vivienne's answer came immediately.
"Tonight."
She slowly sat behind the desk.
"I want the Lincoln Ice Factory reduced to ashes before morning."
Vane replied,
"Understood."
"Make it believable."
Vivienne continued,
"Nothing careless."
"No witnesses."
"No loose ends."
"I understand."
The call ended.
Vivienne lowered the phone.
She stared at the dark screen.
Marcus Vane had been useful.
Very useful.
For years.
But useful people became dangerous the moment too many questions started forming around them.
Vivienne unlocked the phone again.
Then dialed another number.
It rang only twice.
A woman's voice answered.
"Twice in one week."
There was amusement in her tone.
"Are you in trouble, Miss Vice President?"
Vivienne's expression immediately hardened.
"I need you to take care of someone."
The woman sighed.
"Again?"
Then chuckled.
"Who is it this time?"
Vivienne said nothing.
The woman continued,
"Another Secret Service agent?"
A pause.
"Why do you keep killing your own security people?"
She laughed quietly.
"Don't you think eventually you'll leave yourself vulnerable?"
Vivienne's face twisted.
"How dare you speak to me like that?"
The woman's amusement disappeared.
But not because she was afraid.
"My hair turned grey doing your dirty work, Vivienne."
Silence.
"You should know something by now."
The woman's voice became colder.
"You can get rid of ministers."
"Soldiers."
"Agents."
"Officers."
"Anyone."
"But not me."
Vivienne's eyes narrowed.
The woman continued casually,
"So..."
"Let's get to the point."
"I'll put my VIP client on priority."
Vivienne remained silent for several seconds.
Then finally said,
"Lieutenant Colonel Marcus Vane."
The woman stopped.
"Marcus Vane?"
"Yes."
A faint laugh came from the other side.
"Interesting."
Vivienne's fingers tightened around the phone.
"He'll be in Citadel in a few days."
"I want him dead."
The woman became quiet.
Then...
"Marcus Vane."
She repeated the name slowly.
"Second time."
Vivienne's expression changed slightly.
The woman continued,
"So the replacement is ready?"
Vivienne's eyes became cold.
"That's not something you need to worry about."
"Of course."
The woman sounded amused again.
"I was only curious."
Vivienne didn't respond.
The woman continued,
"Understood, Madam Vice President."
Her voice became calm.
Professional.
"Lieutenant Colonel Marcus Vane will visit his home..."
A pause.
"...for the last time."
Vivienne listened silently.
Then the woman's voice dropped.
"And this time..."
"He'll stay in Citadel forever."
Vivienne leaned back.
"You'll receive the money in the usual account."
The woman laughed softly.
"Nice doing business with you."
Vivienne ended the call.
The room became completely silent.
She placed the phone on the desk.
For several seconds...
She stared at nothing.
Marcus Vane had served her well.
He had followed orders.
Stayed quiet.
Kept the battalion exactly where she needed it.
Helped make soldiers disappear.
Helped replace men who became inconvenient.
Fourteen years of loyalty.
Fourteen years of obedience.
But loyalty had never mattered to Vivienne.
Only usefulness.
And Marcus Vane's usefulness...
Had just expired.