The Commander’s Final Briefing

“Call Elena!” Brianna shrieked, grabbing my father’s arm as the reality of the situation finally pierced her arrogance. “Call her right now and make her stop this!”

My father fumbled with his phone, his fingers trembling so badly he dropped the device onto the gravel path.

He picked it up, dialing my number with frantic desperation while the two federal officers stood quietly by, watching the panic set in with professional detachment.

My phone rang three times before I answered.

“Elena,” my father choked out, his authoritative bluster completely gone, replaced by the pathetic whine of a man who realized he had overplayed his hand. “Elena, please. There’s been some terrible misunderstanding. These men are saying—”

“I told you three weeks ago, Father,” I said, my voice calm and steady over the speaker. “You told me to return to my base. But you forgot that a commander’s base is wherever the mission requires it to be.”

“Please, make it end!” my father pleaded, tears welling in his aged eyes as Brianna began weeping hysterically in the background. “Tell them to call off the officers! We'll leave right now!”

“You have two hours,” I replied evenly. “Just like the officer said.”

I hung up before he could say another word.