The Admiral Kicked Her Off Base — Then Froze When Her F-22 Call Sign Made Every SEAL Salute Morning mist rolled over Naval Air Station Oceana like a gray veil, softening the hangars and swallowing the first growl of engines. Salt in the air. Jet fuel on the tongue. A neat row of F/A-18s sat with folded wings like raptors at rest. She walked through the gate in worn flight boots, a sun-faded Navy jacket, a duffel biting her shoulder. Her name was Irene Moon—American, thirty-nine, the green-eyed c

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