Chapter 4 - The Canceled Feast
The fallout from the incident on Pier 12 didn't remain confined to the waterfront. Within forty-five minutes, the story had rippled through the administrative channels of Naval Station Norfolk like a wildfire.
Captain Arthur Kellerman, a thirty-year veteran whose retirement ceremony was scheduled to begin at noon in the waterfront pavilion, arrived on scene accompanied by the base provost marshal. Kellerman was an old-school surface warfare officer—meticulous, direct, and completely intolerant of sloppy conduct. He looked at the fleet of security cars, the dripping tactical gear laid out on the inspection table, and then at Bram Vance, who was currently sitting on the curb with his head buried in his hands.
""Commander Vail,"" Captain Kellerman said, stepping forward and returning my salute. ""I hear someone tried to turn your waterfront inspection into a soap opera.""
""Regrettably, Captain,"" I replied. ""The civilian caterer hired for your reception breached a secure maintenance perimeter, destroyed official evaluation records, and compromised restricted documentation. The individual responsible is currently in federal custody.""
Kellerman’s eyes shifted to Bram Vance, who immediately scrambled to his feet, adjusting his linen jacket with trembling hands. ""Captain Kellerman! Sir, I am so terribly sorry! My fiancée had an emotional breakdown. She has personal issues with her sister. I assure you, Crestview Hospitality has everything completely under control for your guests! The prime rib is ready, the service staff is prepped—""
""Shut your mouth, son,"" Captain Kellerman said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register that commanded immediate silence. ""You brought an unvetted civilian onto an active naval facility, allowed her to trespass onto a restricted pier, and stood by while she committed a federal crime against my inspecting commander. And your first thought is to pitch me prime rib?""
""Sir, I—""
""Your contract is void,"" Kellerman said cleanly. ""Base security, revoke this company's commercial vehicle passes immediately. Escort their staff off the installation. If a single catering vehicle belonging to this outfit is still on base property in twenty minutes, impound them.""
""Captain, please!"" Bram begged, his voice rising in sheer panic. ""We spent thirty thousand dollars on provisions for this event! If you cancel, my vendors will sue me! My business will be destroyed!""
""You should have thought about your business before bringing your family circus onto my waterfront,"" Kellerman said coldly. He turned to me, offering a polite nod. ""Commander Vail, please accept my apologies for the disruption. When you're finished with NCIS, the base galley is providing a lunch spread for my officers. I’d be honored if you joined us.""
""Thank you, Captain. I'll be there as soon as the evidence transfer is complete.""
As base police began the systematic process of turning away Bram’s catering trucks, forcing panicked waitstaff to pack up untouched silver chafing dishes and luxury floral arrangements, Bram fell against the side of his van, looking like a ghost. He wasn't just losing a prestigious military contract; on a military base like Norfolk, word traveled instantly among the high-ranking officers who frequently hired private firms for society balls, change-of-command banleys, and retirements. Crestview Hospitality was effectively dead before lunch.
Bram looked across the asphalt at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. ""You did this,"" he hissed under his breath. ""You ruined us.""
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""Delphine threw the bag, Bram,"" I said quietly, adjusting my cover. ""And you spent years feeding her delusions because it stroked your own ego. Don't blame me for the gravity of the cliff you both chose to leap off.""
With that, I turned on my heel and walked back to the command office to begin the extensive paperwork that would cement Delphine’s legal reckoning.
