Chapter 6 - The Voice They Stole
My voice filled the banquet hall.
“Approve the transfer.”
A pause.
Then:
“Destroy the original records.”
Forty officers stared at me.
I felt as if the floor had vanished.
“That isn't me.”
The recording continued.
“If anyone asks, Colonel Voss authorized everything.”
Voss looked almost triumphant.
“I told you.”
I turned toward him.
“You know that's fake.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
Vale's voice returned through the speakers.
“Lieutenant Colonel Ellison has been involved from the beginning.”
“No,” Reed said.
Vale ignored him.
Documents appeared on-screen.
Emails.
My name.
My credentials.
My supposed authorization.
A perfect manufactured history.
Then Mercer laughed.
Everyone looked at him.
Not because anything was funny.
Because his reaction was completely wrong.
Vale stopped talking.
Mercer stepped toward the screen.
“You made one mistake.”
Vale's expression remained smooth.
“What would that be, Captain Mercer?”
“You used her current voice.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“The supposed recording is dated eleven years ago.”
Reed understood first.
“Mara had throat surgery nine years ago.”
I touched my neck unconsciously.
A benign vocal-cord lesion.
Minor surgery.
My voice afterward had dropped slightly.
Not enough for most people to notice.
Enough for forensic comparison.
Mercer smiled.
“You built your fake from recent recordings.”
Vale's expression didn't change.
But the officers did.
The tide shifted.
I stepped forward.
“Is that the best you have?”
Vale looked at me.
“No.”
The screen went dark.
General Hale immediately ordered technicians to isolate the system.
Bennett picked up the index coin.
“We move now.”
“Where?”
“Evidence center.”
Hale nodded.
“Agreed.”
This time nobody argued.
Voss was placed under guard.
He protested.
Not loudly.
His confidence was gone.
As we prepared to leave, Reed approached me.
“You believe Vale about me?”
“I don't know.”
“I met Voss because Aaron asked me to.”
“Why?”
“To make Voss think I was interested in helping.”
“You were undercover?”
“Unofficially.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“I have the recordings.”
“Where?”
“Secure drive.”
“Everyone has a secure drive tonight.”
He almost smiled.
“I suppose that's fair.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Aaron made me promise.”
“Aaron is dead.”
“I know.”
The pain in Reed's voice was real.
Or good acting.
I had stopped trusting my instincts.
We moved to an underground records facility beneath the administration complex.
Security doubled.
No phones.
No external network.
Bennett inserted the index chip into an isolated computer.
Thirty-nine directories appeared.
Every challenge-coin chip corresponded to one.
Transfer records.
Payments.
Personnel profiles.
Blackmail material.
Access logs.
Names.
Hundreds of names.
Most were victims.
A smaller group were participants.
Voss was there.
Briar executives.
Two colonels.
A civilian procurement director.
Several contractors.
Arthur Vale.
And one name above his.
We stared.
GENERAL THOMAS HALE.
Nobody moved.
Hale looked at the screen.
“That isn't possible.”
Voss laughed from across the room.
“Now you understand.”
I looked at Hale.
“Your name is listed as primary authorization.”
“I never authorized this.”
“Just like I never signed those transfers.”
The irony was brutal.
Hale stepped back.
“They framed me.”
Voss shook his head.
“No.”
“What?”
“They didn't frame you.”
“Then why is my name there?”
Voss looked toward Bennett.
“Because Hale was supposed to become the final scapegoat.”
Bennett nodded slowly.
“That fits.”
Hale stared at him.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“And didn't tell me?”
“Welcome to the club,” I said.
Even Hale accepted that.
Mercer began checking timestamps.
“Most of these authorizations were created through duplicated credentials.”
“Can we prove that?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Login locations.”
He enlarged a record.
Hale's credentials had supposedly approved a transfer while Hale was in Germany.
Another while he was hospitalized after surgery.
Another while he was giving a televised speech hundreds of miles away.
“Sloppy,” Reed said.
“No,” Mercer replied. “Intentional.”
“Why?”
“Because they never expected anyone to inspect the raw metadata.”
The files weren't meant to survive.
Aaron had preserved them before they were cleaned.
I looked at the list.
“Where is Vale's superior?”
Nobody answered.
I pointed.
“If Hale is a scapegoat, Vale may be one too.”
Voss looked at me.
“Now you're learning.”
“You said Vale didn't run it.”
“He doesn't.”
“Who does?”
Voss closed his eyes.
“I never met them.”
“But you know something.”
“A name.”
“Tell me.”
“Not a person.”
“What?”
“A designation.”
He looked at the screen.
“Crown.”
Mercer went still.
Bennett swore.
“What?” I asked.
Mercer answered.
“I've seen that word.”
“Where?”
“Seven years ago.”
“Before the vehicle fire?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“A payment reference.”
“To whom?”
He looked at Voss.
“Colonel Voss.”
Voss lowered his head.
I moved toward him.
“You were paid.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“At first? Approvals.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“And later?”
“Silence.”
“Did you know people were dying?”
He hesitated.
That was answer enough.
My anger returned.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew.”
“I didn't order anyone killed.”
“But you helped the people who did.”
Voss looked older now.
“I told myself it was paperwork.”
“Aaron Cole is dead.”
“I know.”
“Evelyn Shaw is dead.”
“I know.”
“Mercer lost seven years.”
“I know.”
“You tried to frame me.”
His eyes lifted.
“Yes.”
There it was.
No excuse.
No denial.
“You forged my signature?”
“I authorized others to create the records.”
“Why me?”
“Because your name was already connected to Lantern.”
“And because you thought I'd be easy?”
“No.”
He almost smiled.
“Because everyone trusted you.”
That hurt in a different way.
A credible scapegoat had to be someone whose betrayal would shock people.
They had chosen me because my reputation made the eventual accusation more devastating.
Voss continued.
“They planned to release the records after the next audit. You would be blamed. Hale would be implicated as your protector. Vale would resign under pressure.”
“And Crown?”
“Would disappear.”
Mercer pointed at the screen.
“We find Crown.”
Bennett typed commands.
The index opened encrypted references.
One directory resisted.
CROWN.
He entered a code from the coin.
The folder opened.
Inside were photographs.
Meetings.
Contracts.
Bank transfers.
Then a video.
Bennett played it.
Aaron Cole appeared on-screen.
Alive.
Recorded approximately one week before his death.
“If you're seeing this,” Aaron said, “I probably failed.”
Reed looked away.
Aaron continued.
“Crown isn't one person. It's a committee.”
A list appeared.
Five names.
Vale.
Two corporate executives.
A retired general.
And a fifth name hidden behind corruption in the file.
Bennett tried to restore it.
The letters began resolving.
M...
Then A...
Then the system shut down.
“What happened?”
“Power interruption.”
Emergency lights came on.
A familiar pattern.
Mercer cursed.
“They found us.”
The secure door locked automatically.
Ross tried the panel.
Dead.
Then we heard something outside.
Slow footsteps.
One set.
Stopping directly beyond the reinforced door.
A voice came through the intercom.
A woman's voice.
“Lieutenant Colonel Ellison.”
I stepped toward it.
“Who is this?”
Silence.
Then:
“You've been looking for Crown.”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“My name is Evelyn Shaw.”
Every person in the room froze.
May you like
Because Evelyn Shaw had been buried ten years ago.
And the lock on the secure door began to open.
