When Dad finally saw me, he froze entirely. The microphone picked up his sudden, sharp intake of breath. He gripped the wooden edges of the podium so hard his knuckles turned stark white. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He recognized the pristine uniform. He recognized the impossible rank. The daughter he had deliberately tried to erase was suddenly the highest-ranking officer in the room.
But the real shock was yet to come. Unbeknownst to my father, the three front rows of the auditorium were reserved for a special detachment—men who rarely appeared in public, men whose lives were lived entirely in the shadows.
As I passed the fifth row, a massive, heavily bearded man in a dark dress uniform abruptly stood up, his chair scraping violently against the polished floor.
Part 3
The massive, bearded man standing in the third row wasn’t just any regular sailor. He was Commander John “Grizzly” Vance—no relation to my family, but a brother forged in the unforgiving fires of combat. He was the leader of SEAL Team Six’s Alpha Squad, the very men I had pulled from the jaws of death in Operation Silent Echo just forty-eight hours prior.
