Chapter 6 - The JAG InvestigationIt took less than forty-eight hours for the military machinery to turn its unforgiving gaze entirely onto Grant.
By Wednesday afternoon, the Navy Judge Advocate General's (JAG) Corps had formally taken over the investigation from the DoD auditors. The charges were stacking up with terrifying speed: Misappropriation of government funds, conduct unbecoming an officer, fraternization with a civilian contractor, and abuse of authority.
Grant was officially stripped of his command. His security clearance was revoked, his weapon was confiscated, and he was reassigned to a windowless desk in the logistics overflow building, forbidden from contacting anyone in his former department.
The military’s case, however, hinged on one critical piece of testimony. It wasn't the financial documents or the foundation’s clawback—it was the gate incident. The Navy needed to prove Grant had actively used his authority to facilitate an illicit affair on base property.
They needed Seaman Miller.
Grant’s defense attorney—a frantic, overworked public defender because Grant could no longer afford private counsel—tried to intimidate the young sailor during the preliminary depositions. He tried to claim Miller was inexperienced, that he had misunderstood a stressed commander’s orders.
But I had made sure Miller wasn't alone. Through an anonymous shell corporation, I had quietly retained one of the top military defense attorneys in Washington state to represent the young seaman.
During the sworn deposition, Seaman Miller sat tall in his dress blues, his attorney sitting passively beside him.
"Seaman Miller," the lead JAG investigator asked, sliding a transcript across the table. "Did Commander Brooks explicitly instruct you to deny entry to his legal dependents, his wife and child?"
"Yes, sir," Miller testified, his voice steady, his eyes fixed firmly on the wall ahead.
"And did he provide a reason for this order?"
"Yes, sir. He stated that Ms. Claire Dawson was his 'personal partner', and he did not want his civilian family interrupting his weekend. He specifically ordered me to lie, sir. He told me to claim he was in a classified briefing if his wife asked."
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In the corner of the room, Grant closed his eyes, his head dropping into his hands. The room murmured. The transcript was signed and entered into evidence.
The golden boy of Naval Station Everett was dead. All that was left was a disgraced man waiting for his court-martial.
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