Chapter 9 - THE BLOOD ON THE CHAIR
The blood on Ryan's shirt wasn't his.
I knew that before the medic even touched him.
The wound was shallow.
A deliberate cut across his upper arm.
A warning.
Not an attempt to kill.
I crouched beside him.
“Who did this?”
Ryan's breathing was uneven.
“Evelyn.”
“Why?”
“She wanted you to see it.”
I looked at the message carved into the chair.
THE WAR HAS JUST BEGUN.
My team secured the station.
Every exit.
Every tunnel.
Every abandoned platform.
But Evelyn was gone.
Again.
It bothered me.
Not because she had escaped.
Because she had escaped too easily.
She had wanted us to find Ryan.
She had wanted us to find the message.
She had wanted me to bring the USB drive.
Which meant the entire meeting had been designed around one objective.
The drive.
I looked at it.
Then at Ryan.
“Did she touch this?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Did she ask about it?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Ryan swallowed.
“She said your father never trusted digital records.”
I froze.
“What else?”
“She said the drive was a decoy.”
I looked down at the USB.
A decoy.
Then why had my father hidden it?
I stood.
“Take him to the hospital.”
Ryan grabbed my sleeve.
“Wait.”
I looked at him.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Evelyn said Marcus isn't running Northbridge.”
I stared.
“Who is?”
Ryan shook his head.
“She didn't tell me.”
“Then what did she say?”
“She said Marcus reports to someone else.”
“Who?”
“She called him…”
Ryan closed his eyes.
“Director.”
I frowned.
“That's not a name.”
“I know.”
“Did she give you anything else?”
He nodded.
“She said your father knew him.”
I stepped back.
My father.
Again.
Everything kept circling back to him.
His death.
His files.
Evelyn.
Marcus.
Northbridge.
My marriage.
Even my promotion.
For eight years, I had believed my father died of a heart attack.
Now I wondered whether someone had helped his heart stop.
I drove directly to military intelligence headquarters.
The USB was placed inside an isolated system.
A cyber specialist examined it.
Twenty minutes later, he looked up.
“Colonel.”
“What?”
“This drive contains nothing.”
I frowned.
“Nothing?”
“It's blank.”
I stared at him.
“Impossible.”
“It appears to have been wiped.”
“Can you recover it?”
“Maybe.”
“How long?”
“Hours.”
“Do it.”
He nodded.
I turned toward the window.
The sun was rising.
I hadn't slept in almost two days.
But exhaustion didn't matter.
My father's last war had become mine.
At 10:14, the specialist called me back.
“We recovered one file.”
I entered the lab.
A single video appeared on the screen.
My father.
Older.
Tired.
Sitting behind a desk.
I stopped breathing.
It was the first time I had seen him alive since his death.
He looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, something went wrong.”
My eyes filled.
He continued.
“I need you to understand something. The people you're looking for are not a single organization. They're a network of individuals who protect one another.”
He paused.
“Some are criminals.”
“Some are businessmen.”
“Some are government officials.”
“And some wear uniforms.”
I looked at the screen.
My father leaned closer.
“The person who leads them calls himself Director.”
My heart began pounding.
“I don't know his real name.”
“But I know his objective.”
He held up a file.
“Control.”
“Control of money.”
“Control of information.”
“Control of people.”
Then he said the sentence that changed everything.
“And if you're watching this, they have probably already tried to control you.”
The video ended.
I stared at the black screen.
The specialist spoke quietly.
“There's more.”
“What?”
“The file contained metadata.”
“From when?”
“Six months ago.”
I turned.
“That can't be right.”
“It was modified six months ago.”
“By whom?”
He showed me the record.
The user account belonged to…
Ryan Hayes.
I felt sick.
Ryan had accessed my father's video.
Six months ago.
The same time he signed the Northbridge contract.
The same time he began feeding them my schedule.
I left the lab.
Ryan was waiting in a secure medical room.
I walked inside.
He looked up.
“What happened?”
I placed the tablet in front of him.
The video began.
His face went white.
“You accessed this.”
He shook his head.
“I didn't.”
“The system says you did.”
“I swear.”
“Then someone used your credentials.”
He looked terrified.
“Who?”
“That is what I'm asking you.”
He looked at the floor.
“I don't know.”
“Ryan.”
“I don't know!”
His voice cracked.
Then he whispered:
“Maybe they wanted me to take the blame.”
I stared at him.
“Who?”
“The Director.”
I stepped closer.
“Have you ever met him?”
“No.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know he exists?”
Ryan looked at me.
“Because six months ago, someone called me.”
“What did they say?”
“They said they knew everything about you.”
My stomach tightened.
“What exactly?”
“Your schedule. Your assignments. Your promotion.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
“What did they want?”
Ryan's voice dropped.
“They wanted you.”
I felt a chill.
“Not your money?”
“No.”
“Not your career?”
“No.”
“Me?”
He nodded.
“They said you were the key.”
“To what?”
“I don't know.”
He looked directly at me.
“But I think your father left something for you.”
I remembered the hidden room.
The metal case.
The photograph.
The letters.
Then I remembered one thing.
The note beneath the floor.
The daughter knows nothing.
Maybe my father hadn't been protecting a secret from me.
Maybe he had been protecting me from the secret.
My phone rang.
General Whitaker.
I answered.
“Colonel, come to my office.”
“What happened?”
“We found Marcus Hale.”
My pulse quickened.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“He surrendered.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
Whitaker's voice became quiet.
“He asked for you.”
I looked at Ryan.
Then back at the phone.
“Why?”
“He says he knows who killed your father.”
I hung up.
For the first time in two days, I felt something I hadn't felt since this nightmare began.
Hope.
But I should have known better.
May you like
In my world, when someone offered you the truth—
It usually came with a price.
