The petty officer who reached them first was Chief Warren, a grizzled training supervisor who’d spent more years in the Navy than the recruits had been alive. He froze at the scene: four trainees sprawled across the deck, wheezing, clutching limbs, and one petite sailor standing at parade rest as if she were waiting for inspection.
“What the hell happened here?” the Chief barked.
The recruits scrambled to speak, voices tripping over one another. “She attacked us—” “She jumped us—” “She—”
Ava remained silent. It wasn’t her place—not yet.
Chief Warren’s eyes narrowed. “Rios. My office. Now. Recruits, medical will check you out. And don’t think for a second this conversation is over.”
Ava followed him into the cramped office filled with filing cabinets and the smell of stale coffee. He shut the door behind them.
“You want to explain?” he growled.
She kept her tone neutral. “They cornered me, Chief.”
“I can see that. But four men don’t end up on the floor just because they looked at you wrong.”
Ava exhaled slowly. “I acted in self-defense.”
Warren paced. “You’re not supposed to be drawing attention. Not with this assignment.”
Her jaw tightened. “They gave me no choice.”
He shot her a look—sharp, knowing. “You had choices. You just chose your instincts.”
He wasn’t wrong. Years of operating in hostile environments had conditioned her reactions. Iraq, Somalia, Philippines—Ava had spent most of her career in the kinds of places where hesitation meant death.
But this mission? This one was different.
Two female recruits had recently quit the program after reporting harassment, intimidation, and sabotage. The command dismissed their claims as “interpersonal conflict.” COMNAVSPECWARCOM didn’t. They suspected patterns of targeted pressure on women in the pipeline.
Which was why Ava—one of the few women in special operations—was inserted quietly into Great Lakes to find the source of the problem.
Her job was to observe, gather intel, and report.
Not to take down four recruits in a public hallway.
Warren rubbed his temples. “I’ll file this as an incident of aggression against you. You defended yourself. But your cover is fragile now.”
Ava nodded. “Understood.”
“What exactly did you tell them?”
She hesitated, then answered truthfully. “That they should be more careful who they corner.”
Warren stared. “That’s it?”
“And that I’m not who they think I am.”
He groaned. “Ava—”
“They needed to know,” she said, voice firm. “Men like that don’t stop unless they’re forced to.”
He studied her for a long, silent moment. Not angry—evaluating.
“You’ve been in special operations too long,” he muttered. “You see threats everywhere.”
She didn’t argue. She couldn’t.
Warren sighed. “I’ll inform Command. But from here on, you stick to observation only. Understood?”
“Yes, Chief.”
But as Ava left his office, she knew something had shifted. Those four recruits weren’t just acting out of immaturity. Their aggression was organized, rehearsed, intentional.
And if they were bold enough to corner her, they were bold enough to target others.
This wasn’t an isolated problem.
It was systemic.
And Ava was about to uncover just how deep it went.
Two days later, Ava sat hidden behind a row of lockers in the old gym storage room, an audio recorder clipped inside her sleeve. Through a narrow gap, she watched Reilly and his friends gather again—still bruised, still bitter, and far angrier than before.
Hughes lowered his voice. “That Rios chick made us look like idiots. I heard the Chief tore into Command about it.”
Mason scowled. “She didn’t just fight back. She knew what she was doing. None of us could move.”
Delgado shifted uneasily. “I’m telling you—she’s not just logistics.”
Reilly’s eyes narrowed. His pride was wounded deeper than his wrist. “Doesn’t matter what she is. Women don’t belong in this program. And the last thing we need is someone making us look weak.”
Mason leaned in. “The guys in Bravo Company said the same thing about Reyes and Dalton.”
The names hit Ava like a punch.
Reyes and Dalton—two female recruits who’d dropped out last month.
Not by choice.
Reilly continued in a low, venomous tone. “They needed a push. And we gave it to them.”
Ava’s pulse spiked.
“What kind of push?” Delgado asked nervously.
Reilly smirked. “Same kind we’ll give Rios. Tonight. She won’t be so tough then.”
Ava stood silently, her mind racing. This was the confirmation she’d been searching for—proof of coordination, intimidation, and deliberate sabotage. Enough to trigger a full investigation.
She reached for her radio to alert Chief Warren.
A floorboard creaked beneath her boot.
Reilly whipped around. “Who’s there?”
Ava didn’t wait for them to corner her again. She stepped from behind the lockers, expression cold and controlled.
“You boys talk too much.”
The shock on their faces was instant. Mason lunged first—reckless, panicked. Ava sidestepped, caught his collar, and redirected him into the wall. He slid down with a grunt.
Hughes grabbed a metal barbell plate. Ava swept his legs, sending him crashing down. Delgado backed away, both hands raised.
Reilly, however, was shaking with rage.
“You ruined our careers!” he shouted. “Women like you ruin the Navy!”
Ava stepped closer, voice steady. “I’m not here to ruin anything. I’m here to clean it.”
“You think you can stop us?” Reilly spat.
“I don’t have to,” she said. “Because everything you just admitted…” She tapped her sleeve recorder. “…is already on file.”
Reilly’s face drained.
The door burst open—Chief Warren, two NCIS agents, and the Command Master Chief stormed in.
“Ava,” Warren said sharply, “stand down.”
She did. For the first time that week, she allowed herself to exhale.
NCIS cuffed the recruits one by one, reading them their rights as they sputtered in disbelief.
Reilly stared at Ava as they pulled him toward the door. “This isn’t over.”
Ava met his glare with calm professionalism. “Yes, it is.”
And for the first time since she’d arrived at Great Lakes, she felt the mission’s weight begin to lift from her shoulders.
Not because the job was done—
But because justice had finally started.
