Chapter 5 - THE MEN IN BLACK
Glass shattered across the hallway.
Vanessa dragged me behind the wall.
Three men entered.
They moved with military precision.
No shouting.
No hesitation.
One checked the kitchen.
Another moved upstairs.
The third stood by the door.
I whispered:
"Who are they?"
Vanessa answered:
"The people Dad spent his entire life hiding from."
A gunshot sounded upstairs.
I flinched.
"Mom and Dad."
"They're at the cabin."
I stared at her.
"You knew."
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Three years."
I couldn't believe it.
"You've been playing both sides."
Her eyes hardened.
"I've been trying to keep everyone alive."
"You locked our parents in a cellar."
"I was trying to hide them."
"From these people?"
"Yes."
"Then why forge Dad's signature?"
"Because I needed to transfer ownership before they found the property."
"You could have told me."
"You were twelve years gone."
"I was still their son."
Vanessa looked away.
"I know."
Footsteps approached.
She grabbed my hand.
"This way."
We slipped into the pantry.
Behind a shelf was another passage.
I stared at her.
"How many tunnels does this house have?"
"More than you think."
We crawled through.
Behind us, voices echoed.
"Search the property."
"Find the brother."
Vanessa whispered:
"They know you're here."
We emerged in the old garage.
My truck was parked outside.
I ran toward it.
Vanessa stopped me.
"Not that."
"What?"
"They've already tagged it."
I looked.
A tiny red light blinked beneath the rear bumper.
Tracking device.
I stepped back.
Vanessa pointed toward an old pickup hidden behind the barn.
"That one."
We jumped in.
The engine coughed.
Then started.
We drove through the snow.
I looked at her.
"Where are we going?"
"To your uncle."
I stared at her.
"You said he was dead."
"I said everyone believed he was dead."
"Where is he?"
"Chicago."
Three hours later, we reached a motel.
Vanessa called a number.
A man answered.
"Who is this?"
She said:
"It's me."
Silence.
Then:
"You're supposed to be dead."
Vanessa looked at me.
"So are you."
The line went silent.
Then a voice said:
"Bring Michael."
We drove another twenty minutes.
An old man opened the door.
He had Dad's eyes.
I knew him immediately.
"Uncle Thomas."
He stared at me.
Then he hugged me.
"I thought you'd never come home."
I pulled away.
"You knew my parents were alive."
"I knew."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because if I had, they would have killed you."
Thomas closed the door.
Inside were walls covered with photographs, newspaper clippings and maps.
At the center was one photograph.
My father.
Vanessa.
And a third man.
I recognized him.
The man who had been carrying the briefcase.
"Who is that?"
Thomas answered:
"Victor Kane."
"What does he want?"
Thomas looked at Vanessa.
"Everything."
He pointed to the map.
"The property your grandfather bought isn't just land."
He tapped a red circle beneath the house.
"It's the entrance to an underground archive."
I swallowed.
"What archive?"
Thomas looked at me.
"The names of everyone who bought silence in this country for the last fifty years."
Then he placed a photograph on the table.
It showed my father shaking hands with Victor Kane.
The date was fourteen years ago.
The same year I left home.
I looked at Vanessa.
May you like
She whispered:
"Now you know why Dad wanted you gone."
