Chapter 3 - The Voice Upstairs
"Ethan?"
The name escaped before I could stop it.
Daniel stared at me.
Thomas gripped the back of a chair.
Nathan looked toward the staircase.
Nobody spoke.
Then the voice came again.
"Claire."
It was him.
Older.
Rougher.
But him.
I moved toward the stairs.
Daniel caught my wrist.
"You said he was dead."
"I thought he was."
"Could this be a recording?"
"Maybe."
I wanted it to be.
Because the alternative meant six years of official reports, memorials, investigations, and grief had been built on a lie.
Thomas stepped forward.
"I'll go."
"No."
"He's my godson."
"And if that's not Ethan?"
Thomas stopped.
Nathan moved toward the hall.
"We can't just stand here."
"For once," I said, "that's exactly what you're going to do."
He looked ready to argue.
Then a figure appeared at the top of the stairs.
Tall.
Lean.
Gray beginning at the temples.
A scar ran from his left ear toward his jaw.
But the eyes were the same.
Ethan Cole.
Alive.
Thomas made a sound I had never heard from a grown man.
Half laugh.
Half sob.
"Ethan."
Ethan came down slowly.
Thomas crossed the room.
For one second they simply stared at each other.
Then Thomas wrapped both arms around him.
Ethan closed his eyes.
Nobody at the table moved.
I couldn't.
Six years earlier, I'd watched Ethan's aircraft disappear from our tracking system.
I'd spent eleven hours trying to reach him.
Then another sixteen helping recover survivors from the rest of the operation.
There had been no body.
Just debris.
And an official conclusion.
Daniel stood beside me.
"That's him?"
"Yes."
Ethan released Thomas.
Then he looked at me.
"Still wearing the ring."
I looked down at the black falcon.
"You gave it to me."
"You earned it."
Nathan's voice cut through the room.
"Would somebody please explain what is happening?"
Ethan looked at him.
His expression hardened.
"Lieutenant Bennett."
Nathan blinked.
"You know me?"
"I know your credentials."
Nathan's face tightened.
"Someone used them."
"I know."
"You believe me?"
Ethan didn't answer.
Instead he looked toward me.
"We don't have much time."
"Security is coming."
"No."
"Maya Torres called them."
"Maya doesn't know what she's dealing with."
"Then tell me."
Ethan glanced around the room.
"Not here."
I folded my arms.
"You've been dead for six years. You appear inside my husband's family home after someone accesses my records using Nathan's credentials, and your first request is privacy?"
His eyes softened.
"Fair."
"Start talking."
Ethan looked at Thomas.
"You kept the letter."
"Every day."
"I hoped you would."
"Why didn't you come home?"
Ethan's expression changed.
"Because I couldn't."
Thomas looked wounded.
"Six years?"
"If I'd contacted you, people would have died."
"People thought you were dead."
"That was the point."
I stepped closer.
"Who?"
Ethan looked at me.
"The people who compromised Lantern."
Silence.
My mind began rebuilding six years of history.
Lantern had failed because our extraction coordinates were exposed.
We had blamed an intercepted transmission.
Ethan was saying it came from inside.
"Who betrayed us?"
"I don't know."
"After six years?"
"I know the network. Not the person at the top."
Nathan scoffed.
"Convenient."
Ethan turned toward him.
"Your credentials accessed the archive."
"I didn't do it."
"I believe you."
That surprised everyone.
Nathan most of all.
"Why?"
"Because whoever did it wanted Claire to suspect you."
I looked at Ethan.
"Why?"
"Because of this family."
Thomas stiffened.
"What does my family have to do with Lantern?"
"More than you know."
Ethan reached inside his jacket.
Daniel immediately stepped in front of me.
Ethan stopped.
Then slowly removed a small flash drive.
He placed it on the table.
"Don't plug that into anything connected to the internet."
Nathan stared at it.
"What's on it?"
"Proof."
"Of what?"
"That Lantern wasn't just compromised."
Ethan looked at me.
"It was sacrificed."
The words landed like stones.
I remembered faces.
Voices.
People who didn't return.
"Who ordered it?"
"I don't have the name."
"Then what do you have?"
"A financial trail."
Daniel frowned.
"Financial?"
Ethan nodded.
"Someone sold operational intelligence through shell companies. Payments moved through defense consulting contracts."
Thomas looked sick.
"Which companies?"
Ethan hesitated.
"One was Bennett Strategic Systems."
Every eye turned toward Robert.
Daniel's father.
Robert stood so quickly his chair fell backward.
"No."
Daniel stared at him.
"Dad?"
"I never sold intelligence."
Ethan raised a hand.
"I didn't say you did."
Robert's company had supplied communications technology to defense contractors for decades.
He'd sold it four years earlier and was retiring from consulting tonight.
That explained the dinner.
But not the connection.
"Someone used your company," Ethan said.
Robert shook his head.
"Impossible."
"I have transfers."
"Then they're forged."
"Maybe."
Nathan moved beside his father.
"My dad wouldn't betray anyone."
"I believe that too."
Nathan stared at Ethan.
"You seem to believe everybody."
"No."
Ethan's eyes moved around the table.
"I believe whoever did this wanted us pointing at the obvious suspects."
I understood.
Nathan's credentials.
Robert's company.
Thomas's letter.
My attendance.
Someone had built a room full of accusations.
"Why tonight?" I asked.
"Because Robert is retiring."
"So?"
"So tomorrow morning he loses access to an archive connected to his old contracts."
Robert frowned.
"I don't have access to classified operational files."
"Not directly."
Ethan reached for the drive.
"But your legacy encryption key does."
Robert went still.
I saw recognition.
"Project Harbor."
Ethan nodded.
Robert sat down.
Daniel asked, "What's Project Harbor?"
His father looked twenty years older.
"A secure communications architecture. We built it for the Navy."
"When?"
"Seven years ago."
One year before Lantern.
I looked at Ethan.
"Someone used Harbor to leak our extraction coordinates."
"Yes."
Robert whispered, "My God."
Nathan turned toward his father.
"Who had the keys?"
"Four people."
"Names."
Robert hesitated.
"Me. Evelyn Shaw. Marcus Vale."
"And the fourth?"
Robert's eyes moved toward Thomas.
Thomas frowned.
"Why are you looking at me?"
Robert swallowed.
"Helen."
Thomas stepped backward.
"My wife?"
"She handled compliance."
Thomas stared at him.
"Helen died three years ago."
"I know."
Ethan spoke carefully.
"Before she died, Helen contacted me."
Thomas turned toward him.
"What?"
"She knew I was alive."
The old man looked devastated.
"She knew?"
"Yes."
"And she never told me?"
"She was protecting you."
"From what?"
Ethan looked toward the dark staircase.
"From the person who killed her."
Thomas's face collapsed.
Helen Mercer had officially died after a car accident.
I remembered Daniel mentioning it.
Rain.
A highway.
A tragic loss.
Ethan was saying it wasn't an accident.
Thomas grabbed the edge of the table.
"Who?"
"That's what I came to find out."
Suddenly my phone buzzed.
Security.
Or so I thought.
Instead there was another anonymous message.
DON'T TRUST COLE.
A photograph loaded beneath it.
Ethan.
Meeting a man outside a warehouse.
Timestamped two nights earlier.
The second man was Nathan.
I looked at Nathan.
He saw the screen.
His mouth opened.
"I've never met him."
Ethan stared at the photograph.
"That's not Nathan."
"It looks exactly like him," Daniel said.
Ethan zoomed in.
"Look at the left hand."
Nathan held up his hands.
His wedding ring was on his left.
The man in the photo wore none.
Then Ethan enlarged the man's wrist.
A tattoo.
Three black bars.
Nathan looked confused.
Thomas did not.
He whispered, "Marcus Vale."
Robert went pale.
Marcus Vale.
One of the four people with access to Harbor.
"Where is he now?" I asked.
Robert looked toward the windows.
"He was invited to dinner."
A knock sounded at the front door.
Everyone froze.
Margaret whispered, "He said he couldn't come."
Another knock.
Three slow taps.
Thomas looked at me.
Nobody moved.
Then the doorbell rang.
Robert's phone lit up on the table.
A message appeared from Marcus Vale.
May you like
SORRY I'M LATE.
And the front door began to open.
