Chapter 2 - The Call Sign
The entire dining room plunged into a suffocating, cinematic silence.
Chad’s brows furrowed in sheer confusion. His lips tightened nervously as he looked back and forth between his powerful superior and the woman he had just openly mocked.
Sitting next to Samantha, Mark—a handsome, thirty-seven-year-old billionaire businessman in a sharp black tuxedo—watched the interaction with growing, protective concern. He knew Samantha had a classified past, but he had never seen her look so intensely lethal.
"Admiral..." Chad stammered, his voice cracking with defensive disbelief. "You actually know her?"
Admiral Harrison didn't answer his junior officer. He slowly leaned forward over his untouched dinner plate. His stern, authoritative expression violently shifted into visible, suffocating dread. All the color began to drain from his distinguished, weathered face.
Samantha’s fingers tightened slightly around her crystal water glass.
"What was your call sign, Commander?" Admiral Harrison demanded, his deep voice dropping into a grave, urgent whisper that made the candlelight seem to flicker.
Samantha’s composed expression suddenly hardened into stone. The ghosts of her classified past flared in her striking blue eyes. She looked directly into the Admiral’s soul, her voice chillingly calm, vibrating with years of buried trauma and painful recognition.
"Ghost One," Samantha replied smoothly. "You were told I died."
Admiral Harrison completely froze in absolute, unadulterated horror.
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The heavy crystal wineglass slipped from his trembling, decorated hand, crashing onto the hardwood floor and shattering into a hundred pieces.
👉 Chad stared at the shattered glass in pure shock, completely blind to the bloody military secret sitting right at the table.
