Chapter 4 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
“No.”
Alexander's answer came before I could speak.
“Alexander—”
“No.”
“He asked for me.”
“Exactly.”
We stood in a private room behind the wedding reception hall.
Colonel Mitchell had secured the door.
Dad paced.
Mom sat silently.
The photograph of Thomas Bell rested on the table.
Twelve years older.
But unmistakable.
Alive.
“I thought he was dead,” Dad said.
“You never saw a body,” I replied.
“I searched.”
“Did Vantage Meridian know?”
“I don't know.”
Alexander studied the photograph.
“This could be bait.”
“It probably is,” I said.
“Which is why you're not going alone.”
“He specifically said—”
“I read it.”
I crossed my arms.
Alexander crossed his.
Colonel Mitchell watched us.
Dad looked almost amused for half a second.
I pointed at him.
“Don't.”
His amusement vanished.
Alexander said, “You can meet him. We control the perimeter.”
“That isn't alone.”
“He doesn't need to know that.”
I considered it.
“Fine.”
Alexander blinked.
“What?”
“I said fine.”
“You never say fine that quickly.”
“Enjoy it.”
Two hours later, we left the wedding.
I changed into civilian clothes.
Alexander's security detail positioned vehicles around the abandoned medical research facility outside Richmond.
From the road, the place looked dead.
Windows boarded.
Paint peeling.
Weeds pushing through concrete.
But one door was open.
Alexander checked my earpiece.
“You hear me?”
“Yes.”
“If I say leave—”
“I leave.”
“Immediately.”
“Yes, General.”
He frowned.
I smiled.
Then I walked inside.
The corridor smelled of dust.
Old examination rooms lined both sides.
At the far end, a light glowed.
I followed it.
“Emily.”
Alexander's voice in my ear.
“I'm here.”
I entered what had once been a records room.
Thomas Bell sat at a metal table.
He looked exactly like the photograph.
Older.
Thinner.
Tired.
“Major Carter.”
“Mr. Bell.”
He smiled sadly.
“You look like your father.”
“I've been told.”
“No. You look like the man he was before fear changed him.”
That landed harder than I expected.
“Why did you disappear?”
“To stay alive.”
“Why contact me now?”
“Because they started looking for 417 again.”
“Who?”
“Vantage Meridian isn't the real problem.”
My pulse increased.
“Then who is?”
Thomas slid a folder across the table.
I didn't touch it.
“Your father discovered defective equipment,” he said. “That part is true.”
“And the rest?”
“The defects weren't accidental.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“They were testing how cheaply certain systems could be manufactured before failure rates became publicly visible.”
I felt sick.
“On soldiers?”
“On contracts.”
“That's a convenient distinction.”
“I agree.”
“Who authorized it?”
Thomas looked toward the door.
“People with enough influence to erase me.”
“Names.”
He shook his head.
“Evidence first.”
He pointed to the brass key in my hand.
“There's a cabinet downstairs.”
“417?”
“Yes.”
“What is inside?”
“Original test data. Emails. Payment records.”
“Why leave it here?”
“Because nobody knew this facility mattered.”
“Until now.”
“Yes.”
We went downstairs.
Alexander's voice remained in my ear.
“Two minutes.”
I reached the basement.
Rows of rusted cabinets filled the room.
417 stood against the far wall.
I inserted the key.
It opened.
Inside was a waterproof case.
Thomas exhaled.
“Still there.”
I opened it.
Files.
Drives.
Photographs.
Then I found something unexpected.
My own Army personnel file.
“What is this?”
Thomas looked away.
“That's why your father panicked when you joined.”
I opened it.
Someone had tracked every stage of my career.
ROTC.
Medical school.
Residency.
Deployment.
Promotion.
There were handwritten notes.
One appeared repeatedly.
KEEP CARTER AWAY FROM 417 PERSONNEL.
“Who wrote this?”
Thomas said nothing.
“Who?”
“A general.”
Alexander's voice came sharply through my earpiece.
“Emily, leave now.”
I froze.
“Why?”
“Movement outside.”
Thomas went pale.
“They found us.”
A crash sounded upstairs.
Alexander shouted through the earpiece.
“Move!”
Thomas grabbed the case.
We ran.
A side door opened into a service corridor.
Footsteps sounded behind us.
Not Alexander's people.
Thomas pointed toward an emergency exit.
“Go!”
“What about you?”
“GO!”
I reached the exit.
Alexander's security team appeared outside.
I turned.
Thomas wasn't behind me.
“Thomas!”
No answer.
Alexander grabbed my arm.
“We're leaving.”
“He's inside.”
“My people will get him.”
Then a gunshot cracked from the building.
I froze.
Alexander pulled me behind the vehicle.
Officers rushed inside.
Thirty seconds later, Colonel Mitchell's voice came over the radio.
“Clear.”
“Thomas?” I demanded.
Silence.
Then Sarah emerged carrying the waterproof case.
Alone.
“Where is he?”
“He's gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“There was another exit.”
Alexander opened the case.
The files remained.
But my personnel record was missing.
In its place lay a single white envelope.
Alexander opened it.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
Inside was a photograph taken at the wedding that morning.
Me.
Alexander.
My father.
Someone had circled my father in red ink.
May you like
On the back:
RICHARD CARTER NEVER TOLD HIS DAUGHTER WHO SIGNED PROJECT 417.
