Chapter 10 - PROJECT WINTER HOUSE
The words wouldn't make sense.
I looked at Dad.
"Tell me he's lying."
Dad didn't answer.
"Tell me."
He lowered his eyes.
Mom stepped forward.
"Michael, listen."
"No."
I backed away.
"You all knew something."
Dad whispered:
"We didn't know everything."
Kane laughed.
"Of course they didn't."
He explained that Project Winter House had been created decades earlier.
Children from certain families were secretly monitored because their parents had access to sensitive information.
I was one of them.
Not because of my blood.
Because of my memory.
At eighteen, I had witnessed something important.
My brain had buried it.
But Kane believed the memory could be recovered.
That's why he wanted me alive.
"You remember the exchange," Kane said.
"I don't."
"You will."
He ordered his men to take me.
Vanessa attacked one of them.
Everything exploded into chaos.
Mom fired.
Dad tackled another man.
I grabbed a fallen flashlight.
We ran.
The archive had another exit.
We reached an underground elevator.
Vanessa pressed the button.
Nothing happened.
"Why?"
"The power is down."
Then Dad pointed toward a manual crank.
We worked together.
The elevator rose slowly.
Behind us, gunshots echoed.
The doors opened inside the old barn.
Snow was falling.
We ran.
A vehicle waited.
Uncle Thomas was driving.
We jumped inside.
"Where are we going?"
"Anywhere but here."
Thomas drove toward the highway.
Dad sat beside me.
For the first time, he looked old.
"Michael."
"What?"
"I owe you the truth."
He explained that fourteen years ago, he had discovered Kane was preparing to eliminate everyone connected to the archive.
He had staged my departure.
He had secretly funded my first business.
He had watched from a distance.
"I thought money could replace being your father."
I looked out the window.
"It couldn't."
"I know."
Neither of us spoke.
Then Thomas shouted:
"Get down!"
A bullet shattered the rear window.
Another struck the hood.
We swerved.
A black SUV followed us.
Vanessa looked behind.
"Kane."
Thomas stepped on the gas.
The SUV gained.
Then another vehicle appeared.
Police lights.
Sheriff Miller.
I expected relief.
Instead, Thomas cursed.
"It's not police."
The vehicles boxed us in.
A helicopter appeared overhead.
We were trapped.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice said:
"Michael, if you want your parents alive, come alone."
I looked at Dad.
"Who?"
The voice laughed.
"You've forgotten me."
Then he said my childhood nickname.
"Mike."
My blood froze.
Only one person had called me that.
My best friend from high school.
Daniel Ross.
May you like
Mom's brother.
The uncle everyone said died four years ago.
