Chapter 6 - The Truth Behind Project 417
The answer was money.
But not in the simple way I expected.
Project 417 had been part of a larger procurement manipulation scheme.
Companies manufactured low-cost components.
Middlemen billed the government for premium systems.
Officials approved the contracts.
The difference disappeared into consulting companies, overseas accounts, and political funds.
Billions.
Not millions.
My father's discovery threatened all of it.
Thomas showed us everything.
Names.
Accounts.
Emails.
Test results.
And casualties.
That was the hardest file.
Soldiers whose failed communications equipment had contributed to delayed evacuations.
Sergeant Daniel Price was there.
I stopped reading.
Alexander sat beside me.
“You don't have to finish tonight.”
“Yes, I do.”
I read every name.
Forty-three service members.
Some survived.
Eleven didn't.
I cried for the first time since finding my destroyed uniform.
Not because of my mother.
Not because of the secrets.
Because those eleven people deserved somebody to cry for them.
Dad entered quietly.
“I am sorry.”
I looked at him.
“Did you know?”
“Not then.”
“When?”
“Years later.”
“And you still said nothing.”
“I was trying to gather enough proof.”
“You had twelve years.”
“I also had you.”
“That isn't an excuse.”
“No.”
He sat opposite me.
“It is the reason. Not an excuse.”
That distinction mattered.
I wasn't ready to forgive him.
But for the first time, he wasn't asking me to.
Mom appeared in the doorway.
“I owe you something too.”
I looked at her.
“An apology?”
“A lifetime of them.”
She sat.
“I was afraid every day after those photographs arrived. Then fear became anger. And eventually I stopped remembering the difference.”
“You made me think you were ashamed of me.”
“I know.”
“You called me a glorified nurse.”
Her face crumpled.
“I know.”
“You destroyed my uniform.”
“I know.”
I waited.
She didn't defend herself.
Didn't say she had meant well.
Didn't blame fear.
She simply said:
“I was wrong.”
That was the first honest apology my mother had ever given me.
I couldn't forgive twelve years in one night.
But I could acknowledge the beginning.
“Thank you.”
She nodded through tears.
Then Colonel Mitchell entered.
“We found Vale.”
Everyone stood.
“Where?”
“Dulles.”
“Trying to leave?”
“No.”
Sarah looked at Alexander.
“He walked into the federal field office.”
I stared.
“He surrendered?”
“Apparently.”
That made no sense.
Alexander immediately understood.
“He wants something.”
We drove to Washington.
Vale sat inside an interview room.
No lawyer.
No fear.
He smiled when Alexander and I entered.
“Alex.”
“Marcus.”
“Emily.”
I remained standing.
“Why surrender?”
Vale folded his hands.
“Because Thomas gave you enough evidence to destroy the operation.”
“Then it's over.”
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who is above you?”
Vale smiled.
“I wondered when you'd ask.”
Alexander leaned forward.
“Name.”
Vale shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“You're in no position to negotiate.”
“I'm in exactly the position to negotiate.”
He looked at me.
“Your father's company still holds one active contract.”
Dad had told me Carter Aerospace was withdrawing from defense work.
“What contract?”
Vale smiled.
“Emergency battlefield medical communications.”
Project 417.
I felt cold.
“It still exists?”
“Different name. Different equipment. Same network.”
Alexander said, “Who's running it?”
Vale looked through the observation glass.
Then he laughed.
“You brought her here.”
I turned.
Colonel Mitchell stood outside.
My heartbeat stopped.
“No.”
Vale leaned back.
“Ask Sarah why her father really died.”
Alexander rose.
Sarah entered before we called her.
She had heard everything.
“My father died of cancer.”
Vale laughed.
“Your father died because he tried to confess.”
Sarah went pale.
“You're lying.”
“Am I?”
Vale recited an account number.
Sarah froze.
I looked at her.
“What is that?”
She didn't answer.
“Sarah.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“My father's trust.”
Alexander's expression became dangerous.
“How much?”
“Six million.”
Vale smiled.
“The Mitchell family was paid too.”
Sarah shook her head.
“I never knew.”
“Maybe.”
“I didn't.”
I believed her.
Vale wanted division.
Alexander did too.
“Marcus,” he said, “this ends now.”
Vale's smile faded.
“You still don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
“I wasn't protecting the network.”
“What were you protecting?”
Vale looked directly at me.
“Emily.”
I stared.
He continued.
“Twelve years ago, someone ordered your father killed.”
Mom gasped.
Vale said:
“I stopped it.”
Dad went rigid.
“Why?”
“Because killing Richard would have created questions.”
He looked at me.
“And because Samuel Mitchell asked me to.”
Sarah's father.
The compromised general.
Or perhaps not.
Nothing was simple anymore.
Vale leaned forward.
“There is one final file.”
“Where?”
“Carter Aerospace.”
Dad shook his head.
“No.”
Vale smiled.
“You never found it, Richard.”
“What file?”
“Samuel's confession.”
Sarah covered her mouth.
Vale looked at me.
“He hid it somewhere only a Carter would eventually search.”
My mind raced.
The number.
The uniform.
The archive.
Then I remembered something.
Dad's original office.
Carter Aerospace headquarters.
As a child, Lucas and I used to play there.
Room numbers.
417 had been—
“The medical prototype room.”
Dad looked at me.
“That room was sealed ten years ago.”
Alexander stood.
“Not anymore.”
We reached Carter Aerospace after midnight.
Security opened the fourth floor.
Room 417 stood at the end of the corridor.
Dad inserted his executive key.
Nothing.
I tried the brass key Thomas had given me.
Click.
The door opened.
Inside was an empty room.
One desk.
One chair.
One military footlocker.
Sarah approached it.
Her father's initials were carved into the lid.
S.M.
She opened it.
Inside lay a recorder.
And one envelope.
FOR EMILY CARTER.
My hands trembled as I picked it up.
I opened the envelope.
There was one sheet of paper.
At the top:
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, YOUR FATHER FINALLY FAILED TO KEEP YOU AWAY.
Below that was a list of names.
I read the first.
The second.
The third.
Then I reached the final name.
I stopped breathing.
Alexander looked over my shoulder.
His face changed.
Because the last person named in Project 417 wasn't a general.
It was someone standing inside Carter Aerospace with us.
May you like
My brother.
Lucas Carter.
