Major Williams nods, making a note. "Were there additional incidents after that?"
"Yes, ma'am. Over the following weeks, I found several more notes with similar messages. My office was vandalized—filesdamaged, equipment moved or broken. Someone entered my cottage and rearranged personal items to make it clear they'd been inside."
"How did these incidents make you feel?"
Hutchins' attorney objects. "Relevance, Your Honor."
The judge, a stern-faced colonel with a chest full of ribbons, considers. "I'll allow it. The witness may answer."
I meet Major Williams' eyes. "They made me feel watched. Unsafe. Like someone was trying to frighten me into quitting my position."
"Did you consider leaving?"
"No, ma'am. I was hired to do a job, and the work was too important to abandon because someone didn't want me there."
Major Williams walks me through the escalation—the explosive device, the photographs discovered by security, the final confrontation in the wetlands. I describe each incident with clinical precision, keeping my voice steady and my emotions controlled.
"Can you describe what happened at the eastern retention pond on the day of your attack?"
I take another breath. "I was conducting a routine habitat survey when Master Sergeant Hutchins approached. He blocked my retreat and began making statements about women and civilians not belonging in military spaces. When I attempted to leave, he grabbed my throat."
"What happened next?"
"He began to strangle me while explaining why he'd targeted me. He admitted to leaving the notes, vandalizing my office, attaching a bomb to my vehicle, and placing the camera to photograph me. He stated explicitly that he wanted me to leave the base and that my death would send a message about women not belonging in military environments."
"Did he express any remorse?"
"No, ma'am. He said it was necessary. That others would understand what he was doing."
"What happened when he attacked you?"
"I used a speaker unit from the habitat barrier to strike him. That created enough distance that when Master Sergeant Porter's K9 partner Duke arrived, the dog was able to subdue Master Sergeant Hutchins before he could attack again with the knife he'd drawn."
Major Williams lets the testimony sit for a moment before continuing. "Miss O'Rourke, during this confrontation, did Master Sergeant Hutchins express any remorse for his actions?"
"No, ma'am. He said women and civilians undermine military readiness. That proving his point was worth the consequences."
The cross-examination is predictable. His attorney suggests I misinterpreted harmless comments, that stress from my work made me paranoid, that my relationship with Devlin influenced my perception of events. I don't budge on any of it.
"Master Sergeant Hutchins admitted his actions during the confrontation," I say calmly when the attorney implies I'm exaggerating. "His own words confirmed everything. Security footage supports the timeline. The evidence speaks for itself."
After what feels like hours but is probably less than one, I'm dismissed from the stand. I walk back to my seat in the gallery on legs that feel steadier than they should. Devlin is waiting in the hallway when court recesses, Duke at his side.
"You did good," he says.
"Just told the truth." I crouch down to scratch Duke's ears, needing the grounding contact. "Evidence does the rest."
The trial stretches over several more days. More witnesses, more evidence, the defense attorney making increasingly desperate arguments that fall flat against the mountain of proof. When the panel finally retires to deliberate, I'm back in thegallery next to Devlin. His hand wraps around mine, warm and solid.
The wait isn't long. Less than an hour before the panel returns, their expressions giving nothing away. The judge calls the court to order, and the panel president stands.
"Has the panel reached a verdict?"
"We have, Your Honor."
My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat. Devlin's thumb strokes across my knuckles, a small gesture of support that steadies me. The courtroom is silent, everyone waiting.
"On the charge of stalking, we find the defendant guilty."
