My family laughed at my ‘safe little admin job.’ My father called my Air Force uniform a ‘costume.’ My golden-boy brother, indicted for selling secrets to our enemies, told me to ‘go get coffee’ for his high-priced lawyers. They thought I was a failure. They had no idea I was the ‘low-level JAG clerk’ they were mocking. Today, in federal court, the judge saw my name and froze. Today, they learn what ‘Operation Nightshade’ means.
Part 1 The moment I walked through those heavy oak doors, the courtroom fell silent. I was in my full U.S. Air Force JAG Corps Class A service dress uniform, the fabric stiff, the metals polished. I spotted my family in the third row. I saw my father, Robert, a retired sales exec who always…