Chapter 2 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Nathan's hand went automatically toward a weapon he had not carried in nearly two decades.
The man entering Emily's room stopped.
"Still fast," he said.
Nathan stared at him.
"David?"
David Mercer closed the door behind him.
The last time Nathan had seen him, Mercer had been bleeding inside a ruined warehouse outside Belgrade.
Atlas Two.
Explosives specialist.
Thirty-four years old.
Officially killed during an unauthorized operation that had never appeared on any military record.
Nathan had carried Mercer's body himself.
At least, he had believed it was a body.
"You're dead," Nathan said.
Mercer gave a tired smile.
"That made life easier for certain people."
Nathan looked toward Emily.
"Back away from her."
Mercer raised both hands.
"I didn't come for Emily."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because Marcus called me eleven minutes ago."
Nathan glanced at the phone.
Marcus was still connected.
"You knew?"
Marcus answered, "Not until two years ago."
Nathan's anger sharpened.
"You let me believe he was dead."
"I was ordered to."
"By whom?"
Rachel's voice cut in.
"Commander, this is not the place."
Nathan looked at Mercer.
"Start talking."
Mercer's expression changed when he saw Emily.
The bruises.
The bandage.
The machines.
"I'm sorry."
Nathan stepped between him and the bed.
"Talk."
Mercer reached slowly into his coat and removed a small flash drive.
"R.V.C. stands for Raven Vault Consortium."
Nathan said nothing.
Mercer continued.
"It wasn't a company. It was a private financial structure. Offshore accounts. Political slush funds. Protection payments. Intelligence purchases."
"Who ran it?"
"We never knew."
"Richard Vale?"
"One layer."
"And Emily?"
Mercer looked toward her.
"She found something."
Nathan's face went still.
"What?"
"You said she's a financial compliance attorney?"
"Yes."
Mercer nodded.
"Three months ago, her firm began auditing a charitable foundation controlled by the Whitmore family."
Nathan suddenly remembered Emily complaining about late nights.
She had said the client was complicated.
She had never given details.
Mercer continued.
"Someone inside that audit found payments connected to old Raven Vault accounts."
"Emily?"
"We think so."
"We?"
Mercer looked uncomfortable.
"Atlas."
Nathan stared at him.
"You said Atlas was dead."
"It was."
"Then why are you watching my daughter?"
"We weren't."
"Wrong answer."
"Commander—"
Nathan stepped closer.
"Why were you watching Emily?"
Mercer exhaled.
"Because Rachel saw her name in an intercepted financial request six weeks ago."
Nathan turned toward the phone.
Rachel spoke before he could ask.
"We didn't know why."
"You should have called me."
"We didn't want to pull you back."
"She nearly died."
"I know."
"You knew someone was interested in her and you said nothing."
Rachel's voice softened.
"We made the wrong call."
Nathan looked at Emily.
For the first time since arriving at the hospital, guilt joined his anger.
Had his past put her here?
Mercer seemed to read the thought.
"This isn't because of you."
"You don't know that."
"It isn't."
"Then why use the cuff link?"
"Because somebody wanted to signal Raven Vault."
Nathan shook his head.
"That doesn't make sense. If the attackers wanted to silence her, why leave a clue?"
Mercer nodded.
"Exactly."
Nathan looked at him.
"Someone else was there."
"We think so."
Detective Ortiz knocked.
Nathan opened the door only a few inches.
She looked at Mercer.
"Who's this?"
"Old friend."
"Does your old friend have identification?"
Mercer smiled.
"No."
Ortiz's hand moved toward her holster.
Nathan said, "Detective, give me five minutes."
"No."
"Three."
She looked past him toward Emily.
"Two."
Nathan shut the door.
Mercer whispered, "I like her."
"Focus."
Mercer connected his flash drive to the room's television.
A photograph appeared.
Three young men inside Halcyon's private lounge.
Ryan Vale.
Chase Whitmore.
Preston Caldwell.
The timestamp read 10:38 p.m.
Emily was visible at the edge of the frame.
She appeared angry.
Across from her sat a fourth person.
An older man.
Nathan stepped closer.
"Who is that?"
Mercer zoomed in.
Senator Malcolm Reeves.
Nathan knew the name.
Everybody did.
Reeves had served twenty-three years in Washington.
Defense committees.
Intelligence oversight.
Presidential ambitions.
Nathan stared at him.
"What was Emily doing with Reeves?"
"We don't know."
The next image appeared.
Emily standing.
Pointing toward Ryan Vale.
Ryan smiling.
Then another.
Emily leaving the lounge.
Ryan and the other two following.
Another.
Senator Reeves remaining seated.
Nathan said, "Where did these come from?"
"A backup server Halcyon forgot existed."
"Forgot?"
Mercer smiled faintly.
"They forgot after Marcus helped them forget."
Nathan ignored the comment.
"Keep going."
The next image showed the service hallway at 11:46.
Emily running.
Ryan behind her.
Then Preston.
Then Chase.
The following frame was empty.
The cameras cut out.
Nathan waited.
"There must be more."
"There is."
Mercer clicked.
At 11:57, video resumed.
A figure walked calmly down the hallway.
Female.
Dark coat.
Face turned away.
She stopped near Emily's unconscious body.
Bent down.
Placed something in Emily's hand.
Nathan touched the cuff link in his pocket.
"The clue."
"Yes."
The woman then looked directly at the camera.
Nathan stopped breathing.
Mercer froze the image.
She wore a scarf over the lower half of her face.
Only her eyes were visible.
Nathan knew those eyes.
"No."
Mercer said nothing.
Nathan moved closer to the screen.
"No."
The woman had died twenty-two years earlier.
Nathan had received the casualty report himself.
Samantha Sterling.
His younger sister.
CIA operations officer.
Killed in Prague.
Nathan whispered, "That's impossible."
Mercer replied, "We're running facial geometry."
"You don't need geometry."
The woman in the image reached toward the camera.
Then the feed ended.
Nathan turned on Mercer.
"When did you get this?"
"Fourteen minutes ago."
"Who else has seen it?"
"Marcus. Rachel. Me."
"And now me."
"Yes."
Nathan's old instincts returned completely.
"Lock it down."
"Already done."
"No network copies."
"Done."
"Find every person who accessed that server."
"Working."
"Locate the woman."
"We are."
Nathan walked to Emily.
His daughter opened her eyes.
She looked at Mercer.
Then at her father.
Fear appeared instantly.
Nathan leaned toward her.
"Emily. Do you recognize him?"
She shook her head.
"What about the woman who found you after the attack?"
Emily's eyes widened.
Nathan noticed.
"You remember her."
Emily tried to speak.
"Don't force it. Nod."
Emily nodded.
"Did she put this in your hand?"
Nathan showed the cuff link.
Another nod.
"Did she say anything?"
Emily swallowed.
Her fingers moved.
Nathan gave her a writing tablet.
Her hand trembled as she wrote.
Three words.
SHE KNEW YOU.
Nathan stared.
"She knew me?"
Emily nodded.
Then wrote again.
SHE SAID RUN.
Nathan felt the room shrink.
"Run from who?"
Emily's hand stopped.
Her eyes moved toward the hallway.
A shadow passed beneath the door.
Mercer quietly moved beside the wall.
Nathan turned off the television.
Detective Ortiz knocked again.
"Nathan."
He opened the door.
Ortiz entered quickly.
"We need to move Emily."
"Why?"
"Someone just accessed her medical chart remotely."
"Who?"
"We don't know."
"From where?"
Ortiz hesitated.
"Federal building."
Mercer and Nathan exchanged a look.
Ortiz noticed.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Nathan replied, "A lot."
She looked furious.
"Then start."
Before he could, her phone rang.
She answered.
"Ortiz."
Her expression changed.
"What?"
Nathan watched.
"When?"
She looked toward Emily.
"Lock the elevators."
She hung up.
"What happened?" Nathan asked.
"The three suspects are gone."
Nathan's eyes hardened.
"Gone how?"
"A federal transport team arrived with paperwork transferring them into protective custody."
"Which agency?"
"Paperwork says Justice Department."
Mercer shook his head.
"Fake."
Ortiz stared at him.
"How do you know?"
"Because Justice doesn't use that transfer code anymore."
Ortiz's hand returned to her weapon.
"Who are you?"
Mercer replied, "Someone who died before you became a cop."
The lights flickered.
Then went out.
Emergency lighting turned the room red.
Emily's monitor continued beeping on backup power.
Nathan moved beside her.
Mercer drew a compact pistol from beneath his jacket.
Ortiz whispered, "You better have a permit."
"Nope."
Footsteps approached outside.
Slow.
Controlled.
More than one person.
Nathan looked at Mercer.
Mercer nodded.
Old habits.
Old signals.
Nathan pointed Ortiz toward the bathroom alcove.
Mercer positioned himself beside the door.
Nathan remained with Emily.
The footsteps stopped.
A phone began ringing inside Nathan's pocket.
Not the secure phone.
His personal phone.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man's voice said, "Commander Sterling."
Nathan said nothing.
"Your daughter is alive because we allowed it."
Nathan's face changed.
"Who is this?"
"You've already lost nineteen years pretending you escaped us."
Nathan looked at Mercer.
Mercer was listening.
The voice continued.
"Give us the cuff link."
"No."
"We know your team is coming."
Nathan's blood chilled.
"You don't know my team."
A quiet laugh.
"We built the reason your team existed."
Then the caller said something that made Nathan grip the phone harder.
"Ask Mercer why he didn't die in Belgrade."
Nathan looked across the room.
Mercer had gone completely still.
The voice whispered one final sentence.
"Then ask him who ordered your sister's death."
The call ended.
Nathan stared at Mercer.
"David."
Mercer didn't turn around.
"Not now."
Nathan's voice dropped.
"Who ordered Samantha's death?"
Mercer closed his eyes.
Footsteps stopped outside the hospital room.
The handle began turning.
Mercer finally looked at Nathan.
His face had gone pale.
"It was someone inside Atlas."
May you like
The door opened.
And the person standing there was wearing Nathan Sterling's old unit insignia.
