Chapter 5 - The Man Behind Our Family
Thomas Voss pointed the pistol at me.
My mother whispered his name.
"Tom?"
He smiled.
"Evelyn."
The betrayal in her face was worse than fear.
Voss had been at every major event in our family.
Birthdays.
Promotions.
Matthew's wedding.
My father's funeral.
He had once taught me how to shoot a .22 rifle at age twelve.
Now his weapon was aimed at my chest.
Daniel's hand moved toward his side.
Voss shook his head.
"Don't."
Daniel stopped.
Grant stepped slightly left.
"Thomas."
"Still alive, Grant? You've always been inconvenient."
That answered one question.
Voss knew Grant had survived.
Maybe had always known.
I looked at the case.
"You compromised Orchid."
"Orchid was flawed."
"You used it."
"I improved it."
"You turned a concealment system into a tracking network."
"Information is only dangerous when amateurs pretend it isn't power."
My mother stared at him.
"You killed my son."
For the first time, Voss's expression changed.
"Matthew killed himself."
I moved before thought.
Daniel caught my arm.
Voss raised the pistol.
"Careful."
My mother stepped toward him.
"Say it again."
"Evelyn."
"Say my son killed himself."
"He discovered something bigger than he understood and decided to play hero."
"He was a hero."
"He was reckless."
"He trusted you."
Voss's smile vanished.
"That was his mistake."
My mother lunged.
I grabbed her.
"Mom."
She shook against me.
Nine years of grief had found a face.
Voss looked almost bored.
"Family emotion. This is why compartmentalization matters."
I said, "Why bring me to the banquet?"
"To verify you still had R-007 access."
"You could have checked records."
"No."
He smiled again.
"R-007 doesn't exist in records."
"Then how did you know?"
"Matthew."
That hurt.
"He spoke about you."
"To you?"
"He was proud."
For a second I hated my brother for trusting the wrong man.
Then I remembered being twenty-two.
Voss had felt like family.
Of course Matthew trusted him.
"What is the continuity archive?" Daniel asked.
Voss glanced at him.
"Something you don't need to understand."
"I understand enough."
"Do you?"
Voss shifted his aim.
I watched his trigger finger.
Steady.
He wasn't nervous.
That made him dangerous.
Grant said, "You killed the contact at the banquet?"
Voss smiled.
"No."
We all went still.
"Then who did?"
"That's the interesting part."
He nodded toward the steel case.
"Matthew's archive attracted more than one hunter."
"Who?"
"Someone who believes I stole something from them."
My phone vibrated.
Nobody moved.
Voss heard it.
"Answer."
I looked.
Unknown sender.
One line:
THE MAN HOLDING THE GUN IS NOT YOUR BIGGEST PROBLEM.
A second message appeared.
LOOK BEHIND VOSS.
I did.
At first, nothing.
Then movement.
A figure at the far end of the corridor.
Daniel saw it too.
He shouted.
"Down!"
The shot came from behind Voss.
Voss twisted.
His pistol fired into the ceiling.
I pulled my mother behind the lockers.
Grant tackled Caroline.
Daniel fired once.
The hidden shooter vanished.
Voss hit the floor.
Blood darkened his shoulder.
He was alive.
I crawled toward him.
"Who was that?"
He laughed through clenched teeth.
"You really don't know."
"Name."
"Your brother did."
I pressed a hand to his wound.
"Name."
He looked at my mother.
Then at me.
"Ask Evelyn who signed the original Orchid charter."
My mother froze.
I turned.
"Mom?"
She shook her head.
"That was twenty years ago."
"Who?"
"I don't remember."
"Mom."
She looked terrified.
Not guilty.
Terrified.
"It wasn't military."
"What?"
"The system started as a joint intelligence project."
"With whom?"
"Private contractors."
Grant went pale.
"Which contractor?"
My mother whispered:
"Northstar Strategic."
Daniel cursed.
I knew the name.
Everyone in classified logistics did.
Northstar had dissolved after a corruption investigation fifteen years ago.
Its founder had vanished.
Declared dead in a plane crash.
I looked at Voss.
"Who founded Northstar?"
His eyes held mine.
"Your father."
My mother made a broken sound.
"No."
Voss smiled through the pain.
"Tell her, Evelyn."
I stared at my mother.
"Dad?"
She couldn't look at me.
My father, Colonel James Hale, had died when I was seventeen.
Cancer.
At least that was what I believed.
"He consulted," she said.
"Consulted?"
"He helped design secure routing."
"For Northstar?"
"Yes."
"You never told us."
"It was classified."
The same sentence.
The same poison.
I nearly laughed.
"Is anything in this family real?"
My mother flinched.
A metal door slammed somewhere deeper in the annex.
Daniel checked the corridor.
"We need to move."
Grant lifted Voss.
"No."
Voss shoved him away.
"If you leave without the archive, none of this matters."
"What archive?"
He pointed toward the flash drive.
"That isn't data."
I picked it up.
"What is it?"
"A key."
"To?"
"The continuity archive."
"Where?"
Voss smiled.
"Inside R-007."
I stared.
"No."
"You really don't know what your designation means, do you?"
R-007 had been assigned during a compartmented rescue unit reorganized after Black Ridge.
I thought it was a mission identity.
An operational shield.
Voss shook his head.
"R means repository."
My mouth went dry.
"Seven refers to the seventh human authorization node."
Daniel whispered, "Human authorization?"
Voss looked at me.
"You carry the final biometric key."
I felt violated.
"When?"
"Years ago."
"Without telling me?"
"They told you enough to gain consent."
I remembered medical screening.
Retinal scans.
Voice protocols.
Genetic authentication.
I had assumed it was normal.
Maybe it had been.
Maybe not.
"What is in the archive?"
Voss's face became serious.
"Every compromised identity, every illegal routing transfer, every officer paid through Northstar shell accounts."
"And Matthew found it."
"He found part."
"Enough to kill him."
"Yes."
My mother closed her eyes.
A sound came from the entrance.
Engines.
Multiple vehicles.
Daniel looked through the cracked exterior door.
"Company."
"Military?"
"No."
Voss laughed.
"They found us."
"Who?"
"The people Northstar became."
Grant said, "Northstar dissolved."
"Companies dissolve. Networks don't."
The building lights came on all at once.
Every dead fixture illuminated.
My phone rang.
Unknown caller.
I answered.
A man's voice.
Older.
Familiar in a way that made my skin crawl.
"Rebecca."
I said nothing.
He continued.
"You've grown into your mother's stubbornness."
My mother stared at me.
"Who is it?"
The voice said:
"Tell Evelyn I kept my promise."
I couldn't breathe.
Because I knew the rhythm of that voice.
A voice from childhood.
A voice reading bedtime stories.
A voice telling me not to be afraid of thunderstorms.
I whispered:
"Dad?"
My mother's face went white.
The man on the phone laughed softly.
Then a door at the end of the corridor opened.
Footsteps approached.
May you like
And my dead father said:
"Come see me, Becca."
