Chapter 3 - The Man Who Watched Her Sleep
Emergency lighting came on three seconds later.
Three seconds were enough.
Jessica was already against the wall.
Mercer had drawn his weapon.
Brooks stood between the door and the table.
Crawford was on the floor.
Hale was missing.
Jessica looked toward the open doorway.
“Where's Hale?”
Nobody answered.
Mercer moved first.
Jessica followed.
The corridor was empty.
“Lock down headquarters,” she ordered.
Brooks grabbed the nearest radio.
“No one enters or exits.”
Jessica checked the stairwell.
Nothing.
Hale could not have moved far.
Unless the outage had been planned.
She ran toward the rear exit.
The crash bar moved beneath her hand.
Locked.
“Major!”
Mercer called from behind.
Jessica turned.
He was pointing toward a service corridor.
A door at the end swung slowly.
Jessica moved.
Brooks followed.
Crawford came behind them.
“You stay,” Jessica said.
“No.”
“That wasn't a suggestion.”
“He knows the building better than you.”
Jessica looked at him.
He had a point.
She hated that.
“Stay behind Brooks.”
They reached the service door.
Outside, tire marks cut across gravel toward the maintenance road.
A black sedan disappeared behind a warehouse.
Mercer swore.
Jessica grabbed his arm.
“No pursuit.”
He looked at her.
“They want us moving.”
“You think diversion?”
“I know diversion.”
She turned toward headquarters.
“What did the outage give them?”
Crawford's face changed.
“The evidence room.”
They ran.
The secure evidence room was two floors below.
The electronic lock had failed during the outage.
The mechanical backup showed signs of tampering.
Inside, drawers stood open.
The annex file was gone.
Mercer stared.
“So is my drive.”
Jessica looked around.
“What drive?”
“The encrypted copy.”
Crawford laughed once.
Nobody found it funny.
“They took both?”
Mercer nodded.
Jessica examined the room.
One cabinet remained closed.
“Why not that?”
Mercer looked.
“Low-value evidence.”
Jessica approached.
A streak of blood marked the handle.
Fresh.
She opened it.
Lieutenant Colonel Hale lay curled inside the storage space.
Alive.
Barely.
Brooks called medical.
Jessica knelt.
“Hale.”
His eyes opened.
“Jessica.”
“Who did this?”
His lips moved.
She leaned closer.
“Not Ryan.”
Crawford stopped.
Jessica looked at Hale.
“Who?”
“Your father…”
Jessica froze.
Hale coughed.
Blood touched his lip.
“Your father knew.”
“Knew what?”
“The insignia.”
“What about it?”
Hale's breathing became ragged.
“It wasn't created to identify investigators.”
Jessica frowned.
“Then what?”
His eyes fixed on hers.
“To identify survivors.”
Then he lost consciousness.
The medics arrived.
Jessica stepped back.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Survivors of what?
Meridian?
A purge?
A betrayal?
Crawford stood against the wall.
“My father had one.”
Jessica turned.
“What?”
“That insignia.”
“You saw it?”
“When I was twelve.”
Crawford's voice changed as he spoke, the arrogance stripped away.
“He kept it hidden beneath the lining of his uniform jacket. Same symbol. Eagle. Circle. Three bars.”
Jessica looked at Mercer.
He shook his head.
“That isn't in the program history.”
Crawford laughed bitterly.
“Maybe your program history is a lie.”
Jessica wanted to dismiss him.
She couldn't.
Too many lies had already surfaced.
“Tell me about your father.”
Ryan hesitated.
Jessica waited.
“He came home one night and told my mother we were leaving. No explanation. We packed two bags. Before sunrise, men arrived.”
“Military?”
“I don't know.”
“What happened?”
“My father put me and my mother in the basement. I heard shouting. Then gunfire.”
Jessica watched him.
“When you came out?”
“He was gone.”
“And your mother?”
“She spent the next twenty years telling me he abandoned us.”
“Did you believe her?”
“Yes.”
“Until?”
“Until six months ago.”
Jessica's attention sharpened.
“What happened six months ago?”
Ryan looked toward the empty evidence shelf.
“I received a package.”
“What was inside?”
“A photograph of my father standing beside yours.”
Jessica went still.
“And?”
“A note.”
“What did it say?”
Ryan looked directly at her.
MERIDIAN IS STILL ALIVE.
Jessica understood his fear now.
Not his behavior.
But his fear.
“Why didn't you report it?”
“To who?”
“Counterintelligence.”
Ryan laughed.
“The package included copies of internal reports that hadn't been created yet.”
Jessica said nothing.
“Reports signed by people at this base,” Ryan continued. “Transfers. Investigations. disciplinary actions. Even one casualty report.”
“For whom?”
Ryan's face tightened.
“You.”
The word landed hard.
Jessica stared.
“There was a casualty report with your name?”
“Yes.”
“Cause?”
“Training accident.”
The same category used for her father.
Mercer whispered, “Jesus.”
Jessica ignored him.
“Date?”
Ryan hesitated.
“Tomorrow.”
Silence.
Jessica looked at the clock.
11:42 a.m.
Twenty-four hours.
Maybe less.
“Where is the report?”
“In the pouch.”
The pouch that had disappeared.
Jessica's mind moved quickly.
Someone had given Crawford predictive documents.
Someone had manipulated him into treating Jessica as an impostor.
Someone wanted him publicly compromised.
Why?
To discredit him?
Or recruit him?
She looked at Crawford.
“Who sent the package?”
“No return address.”
“Anything inside besides the note?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Ryan reached into his pocket.
Jessica tensed.
He slowly removed a small brass key.
Old-fashioned.
A number stamped into it.
“I kept this separate.”
Jessica took it.
“What's it open?”
“I don't know.”
Brooks approached.
“I might.”
Everyone looked at him.
Brooks stared at the key.
“Old barracks lockers.”
“Where?”
“Building C. Decommissioned ten years ago.”
Jessica put the key in her pocket.
“We're going.”
Mercer shook his head.
“If your casualty report is real—”
“Then sitting here doesn't make me safer.”
Crawford said, “I'm coming.”
Jessica looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because if my father left that key, I want to know.”
“You don't know that he did.”
“No. But I know whoever sent it knew enough about him to scare me.”
Jessica considered.
“Fine.”
Brooks said, “Major, I recommend security.”
“No visible escort.”
“That building's isolated.”
“Exactly. Whoever's watching expects us to move like frightened people.”
Brooks almost smiled.
“Understood.”
They crossed the installation in an unmarked government vehicle.
Building C sat beyond a row of condemned warehouses.
Inside, dust covered the floor.
Old lockers lined the walls.
317 stood at the far end.
Jessica inserted the key.
It turned.
Inside lay one object.
A cassette recorder.
Ryan stared.
“My father used those.”
Jessica lifted it carefully.
There was a tape inside.
Mercer checked it for obvious devices.
“Looks clean.”
Jessica pressed play.
Static.
Then a man's voice.
Older.
Tired.
“If Ryan Crawford is hearing this, I failed.”
Ryan went pale.
His father's voice.
Jessica looked at him.
The recording continued.
“My name is Thomas Crawford. Meridian was compromised from the beginning. Andrew Dalton discovered the breach before I did. We tried to identify the command authority protecting it.”
Jessica's chest tightened.
Her father's name.
“We failed.”
Static cracked.
“The insignia was not an award. It was a warning. Those carrying it had been marked for removal.”
Jessica touched her collar.
Mercer stared.
Ryan stopped breathing.
Thomas continued.
“Andrew believed one of us could survive long enough to expose the network. If his daughter ever enters service, keep her away from Meridian.”
Jessica closed her eyes.
Her father had known.
“He hid evidence where only she could find it.”
Jessica opened her eyes.
Ryan looked at her.
The tape clicked.
Then Thomas said one final sentence.
“Jessica, if you're listening, ask yourself why your mother never told you what happened the night your father died.”
The tape stopped.
Jessica stood motionless.
Her mother.
Evelyn Dalton.
Retired school principal.
Widowed eleven years.
The safest person in Jessica's memory.
Mercer spoke carefully.
“When did you last talk to her?”
“This morning.”
“Where is she?”
“Home.”
Ryan looked at Jessica.
“Call her.”
Jessica did.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Third time.
Voicemail.
Jessica's stomach tightened.
Brooks radioed security.
“Request welfare check at listed residence.”
A response came thirty seconds later.
Then Brooks' face changed.
“Major.”
Jessica looked at him.
“They already received an emergency call from that address.”
“When?”
“Six minutes ago.”
Jessica grabbed the radio.
“What happened?”
Static.
Then the answer.
“Front door open. House empty.”
Jessica's phone vibrated.
A text from her mother's number.
Three words.
COME ALONE, JESSICA.
Beneath it was a photograph.
May you like
Her mother sat tied to a chair.
And standing behind her was Lieutenant Colonel Hale.
