Chapter 4 - THE FLASH DRIVE
General Whitmore took the flash drive without plugging it into any ordinary computer.
He had a secure technician examine it.
I waited in a small conference room.
For forty minutes, nobody spoke to me.
Then the door opened.
Whitmore walked in carrying a folder.
He sat across from me.
“Your grandmother was very careful.”
“What did she leave?”
He opened the folder.
Photographs.
Bank records.
Property records.
Emails.
Names.
Dates.
Transfers.
I recognized my father's name.
But there were other names too.
People I didn't know.
Companies I'd never heard of.
Accounts in three states.
Money moving between them.
My throat went dry.
“How much?”
Whitmore looked at me.
“Enough.”
“How much?”
“Nearly nine million dollars.”
I stared at him.
My family had spent years complaining about money.
My father had told me he couldn't help with college.
My mother had said Grandma's estate wasn't large enough to divide.
Tiffany had constantly talked about how expensive her lifestyle was.
Nine million dollars.
Where had it come from?
Whitmore slid a document toward me.
“This is the part you need to understand.”
The money wasn't connected to Grandma's estate.
It was connected to a defense contractor.
A company that had once held contracts supporting military logistics.
My father's name appeared in a consulting agreement.
My hands went cold.
“What did he do?”
“We don't know everything.”
“But you suspect him.”
“We suspect he had access.”
“To classified information?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the document.
Then I saw a familiar name.
Brad.
My sister's husband.
His company had received payments.
I laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because my brain couldn't process it.
“Tiffany knows.”
Whitmore didn't answer.
“She has to.”
“Maybe.”
I shook my head.
“She knew about the transfer. She knew about Grandma's property.”
“Then she may know more than she realizes.”
My phone rang.
Tiffany.
I answered.
“What?”
Her voice trembled.
“Where are you?”
“Why?”
“Dad wants to talk to you.”
“No.”
“Please.”
I said nothing.
“There's something you don't understand.”
“What is it?”
She started crying.
“My livestream.”
“What about it?”
“Someone sent me a message.”
“What message?”
“They said if I didn't delete the video, they'd expose everything.”
My stomach tightened.
“What everything?”
“I don't know.”
“Tiffany.”
“I swear.”
“Who sent it?”
“I don't know.”
“Send it to me.”
She hesitated.
Then a notification appeared.
A screenshot.
The message read:
YOU WERE WARNED. THE GIRL WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO COME HOME.
I showed Whitmore.
His expression hardened.
“That's not your family.”
“Then who is it?”
He stood.
“I don't know.”
My phone rang again.
This time it was my mother.
I didn't answer.
Then another message arrived.
From my father.
COME HOME. WE NEED TO TALK BEFORE THEY GET TO YOU.
I stared at it.
“They.”
Whitmore saw the message.
“What does he mean?”
“I don't know.”
“Call him.”
I did.
My father answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“Why?”
“Because you're in danger.”
“You filed a false police complaint against me.”
“We were trying to protect you.”
“By arresting me?”
Silence.
Then he whispered:
“You don't understand what your grandmother left behind.”
“I have the flash drive.”
He stopped breathing.
I knew immediately.
“You knew about it.”
“Where did you get it?”
“That's not your concern.”
“It absolutely is.”
“No.”
I hung up.
Whitmore stared at me.
“What?”
“My father knew about the flash drive.”
Whitmore nodded.
“I expected that.”
Then he reached into the folder.
He pulled out one final photograph.
It showed my grandmother.
My father.
And another man.
The date was written beneath it.
Six months before I enlisted.
The other man was wearing a military uniform.
I recognized him.
He had died during the operation that nearly killed my entire team.
Whitmore placed the photograph on the table.
“Your grandmother knew him.”
I stared.
“What was his name?”
Whitmore said it.
And I felt the blood leave my face.
Because it was the name of the man my family had told me had betrayed my country.
The man I had spent five years believing was responsible for the deaths of my friends.
The man who had supposedly sold our location.
May you like
Except now I was looking at proof that he had met my father before the mission.
And suddenly, the official story didn't make sense anymore.
