Chapter 3 - The Name Behind the Photograph
Evelyn did not go alone.
She simply made sure anyone watching believed she did.
At 10:46 p.m., she parked half a mile from the address and continued on foot.
Vance hated the plan.
Walter hated it more.
Evelyn ignored both objections.
The address led to a decommissioned military training facility outside town.
Officially, it had been empty for six years.
Unofficially, somebody had restored electricity.
Light glowed behind one second-floor window.
Evelyn approached through trees.
Her shoulder ached.
Cole’s kick had left a bruise spreading beneath her uniform.
She had changed clothes before leaving the bar.
Dark pants.
Boots.
Black jacket.
Vance had given her a concealed radio.
He and two former Sentinel Marines were positioned beyond the perimeter.
Evelyn reached the steel door.
Same design as Harlow.
Same faded stencil.
OPS-4.
Her pulse increased.
She opened it.
Unlocked.
Inside, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
A hallway stretched ahead.
Photographs covered both walls.
Evelyn stopped.
Sentinel.
Every face.
Every deployment.
Every death.
She moved slowly.
Marcus Bell.
Aaron Pike.
Daniel Cross.
Each official casualty photograph had a red line through it.
Others had black lines.
She reached her own photograph.
No line.
Instead, one word had been written underneath.
PENDING.
“Vance,” she whispered into the radio.
Static.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Signal blocked.
Of course.
A sound came from the next room.
A chair scraping.
Evelyn moved toward it.
“Cole?”
No answer.
She entered.
Staff Sergeant Travis Cole sat tied to a metal chair.
His face was bruised but he was conscious.
When he saw Evelyn, humiliation flooded his expression.
“Colonel.”
She checked the room before approaching.
“Are you injured?”
“Nothing serious.”
“Who did this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You came here voluntarily.”
Cole looked away.
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was paid.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“To attack me?”
“To embarrass you.”
“By whom?”
“I never met him.”
“How much?”
“Ten thousand.”
“Ten thousand dollars to kick a chair?”
Cole’s shame deepened.
“I was told you were pretending to be an officer.”
Evelyn almost smiled at the stupidity.
Almost.
“And you believed that?”
“I was drunk.”
“You were also wearing the uniform.”
Cole lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
“Who contacted you?”
“Anonymous account. They knew things about me.”
“What things?”
Cole hesitated.
“Debt.”
“Gambling?”
He nodded.
Evelyn understood.
Leverage.
Money.
Pride.
Somebody had selected him carefully.
“Why are you here?”
“They messaged me after I left the bar. Said I’d get the rest of the money here.”
“And?”
“Someone hit me from behind.”
Evelyn cut the restraints.
Cole rubbed his wrists.
“I’m sorry.”
“We’re not dealing with that now.”
“I shouldn’t have—”
“Later.”
The lights went out.
Cole froze.
Evelyn grabbed his arm and pulled him behind the metal table.
A projector turned on.
A white rectangle appeared on the wall.
Video began.
Harlow.
Evelyn recognized the timestamp.
02:14.
There she was.
Younger.
Exhausted.
Standing inside the command tent.
Daniel entered carrying the red folder.
Video had no sound.
He handed it to her.
Evelyn opened it.
Her stomach turned.
“I don’t remember this.”
Cole whispered, “What is it?”
Evelyn watched.
Video-Evelyn read the first page.
Then looked directly at Daniel.
They argued.
She slammed the folder onto the table.
Daniel pointed toward the radio equipment.
Evelyn shook her head.
Then the video ended.
A voice came through speakers.
“Memory is fragile.”
Evelyn stood.
“Show yourself.”
“Especially traumatic memory.”
“Daniel?”
A pause.
“No.”
Not Daniel.
Evelyn recognized the voice from somewhere.
“Who are you?”
“You really don’t remember.”
A photograph appeared on the screen.
A man in uniform.
Major General Nathan Rourke.
Evelyn felt the past move beneath her feet.
Rourke had supervised the Harlow investigation.
He had been the one who told her Daniel was dead.
He had sat beside her hospital bed after she was evacuated.
He had told her she had done everything possible.
Rourke had died five years ago.
Cancer.
Evelyn had attended the memorial.
The speaker crackled.
“General Rourke created Sentinel’s second program.”
Evelyn stared at his photograph.
“What program?”
“Project Aegis.”
Cole whispered, “I’ve heard that name.”
Evelyn turned.
“How?”
Cole looked frightened.
“My father.”
“What about him?”
“He used to say it when he was drunk.”
“Who was your father?”
“Master Sergeant William Cole.”
Evelyn knew the name.
Everyone in Sentinel did.
William Cole had been one of Rourke’s senior enlisted advisers.
He had died two months before Harlow.
At least officially.
The projector changed.
William Cole appeared beside Rourke.
Date stamp: three years after his supposed death.
Travis stumbled backward.
“No.”
Evelyn looked at him.
Now she understood why Cole had been chosen.
Not random.
Never random.
The voice continued.
“Project Aegis identified soldiers capable of operating beyond normal command structures.”
“By staging deaths?”
“Sometimes.”
“By sacrificing people?”
Silence.
Evelyn’s anger sharpened.
“Fourteen people died at Harlow.”
“Yes.”
“And Rourke caused it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To test you.”
Cole stared at Evelyn.
She barely heard him whisper, “My God.”
Evelyn looked at Rourke’s photograph.
“Why me?”
“Because Daniel recommended you.”
That hurt.
“No.”
“He believed you were the best commander he had ever known.”
“Daniel would never volunteer me for this.”
“He didn’t know what Aegis really was.”
The projector changed again.
Daniel appeared.
Older.
Alive.
Recorded recently.
He sat in a dark room.
“Evie,” he said.
Evelyn moved closer.
“If you’re seeing this, they finally forced you back into the game.”
His face carried eight missing years.
“I’m sorry.”
Evelyn swallowed.
“I wanted to come home. I tried twice. Rourke’s people made it clear that anyone I contacted would become leverage.”
Daniel looked down.
“Harlow wasn’t your fault.”
Evelyn closed her eyes for one second.
Eight years.
Eight years of waking at 3 a.m. hearing radio calls from dead men.
Eight years of wondering which decision she should have changed.
Daniel continued.
“The red folder contained evidence that someone inside our command had deliberately compromised the operation. You ordered me to take it outside the chain of command.”
Evelyn opened her eyes.
Memory flashed.
Daniel shouting.
The red folder.
Her hand shaking.
Then—
Nothing.
“Why don’t I remember?”
Daniel answered as though he could hear her.
“Because after the evacuation, you were given something in the hospital. They called it treatment for shock. It wasn’t.”
Cole looked at her.
Evelyn felt sick.
“They altered my memory.”
“Not completely,” Daniel said on screen. “That’s why they’re afraid of you.”
The video flickered.
“Rourke is dead. But Aegis isn’t. Someone took control after him.”
Daniel leaned toward the camera.
“And that person is someone you trust.”
The screen went black.
Lights returned.
A mechanical click came from behind them.
A section of wall opened.
Inside was a safe.
Cole stared.
Evelyn approached.
The safe door was already open.
One folder lay inside.
On the cover:
AEGIS COMMAND SUCCESSION
Evelyn opened it.
The first page listed Nathan Rourke.
DECEASED.
Below his name was his successor.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
She knew the name.
She had trusted that man with every classified decision she had made for the past six years.
Then footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Slow.
Deliberate.
May you like
Someone stopped outside the room.
The handle began to turn.
