Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Photograph
Emily stared at the photograph until the vehicle behind them rammed their bumper.
The phone almost flew from her hand.
“Hold on,” Mitchell shouted.
He jerked the wheel.
The utility vehicle fishtailed along the mountain road.
Another impact struck from behind.
Emily grabbed the dashboard.
“Who are they?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d like to know who I’m shooting.”
Mitchell almost smiled.
The pursuing vehicle accelerated beside them.
Emily lowered her window.
A rifle barrel appeared from the other vehicle.
She fired first.
Three controlled shots.
The rifle disappeared.
Their attacker swerved.
Mitchell slammed the brakes.
The pursuing vehicle shot ahead.
Emily leaned through the window and fired into its rear tire.
Rubber exploded.
The SUV spun sideways and smashed into a rock wall.
Mitchell accelerated past it.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then Emily looked again at the photograph.
The woman beside Robert had dark hair.
Emily’s eyes.
Her jawline.
Even the small curve at the corner of her mouth looked familiar.
On the back of the scanned image was a date.
May 17.
Emily’s birthday.
She turned toward Mitchell.
“Talk.”
“Not while we’re being chased.”
“Talk anyway.”
Mitchell exhaled.
“Her name was Sarah Bennett.”
“Was?”
“I thought she was dead.”
“Who was she?”
“CIA.”
Emily stared at him.
“My biological mother was CIA.”
“Yes.”
“And the woman who raised me?”
“Margaret Carter.”
“My mother.”
“Yes.”
“Say that clearly.”
Mitchell nodded.
“Margaret is your mother in every way that matters.”
“But not biologically.”
“No.”
Emily looked back at the photograph.
“How?”
“Robert and Sarah worked together during an operation in Eastern Europe. You were born during the investigation that eventually led them to the Council.”
“Did Margaret know?”
“Yes.”
Emily’s chest tightened.
Her mother had lied to her every day of her life.
“She knew?”
“She and Robert adopted you legally after Sarah disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“Sarah was targeted.”
“By the Council.”
“We believed so.”
“And Dad?”
“Loved you.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Mitchell glanced at her.
Emily understood before he answered.
“Yes. He loved Sarah too.”
The betrayal felt irrationally personal even though it had happened before she could remember.
“What happened to her?”
“She was investigating Adrian Vale.”
“The man in the photograph.”
“Yes.”
“Did Vale kill her?”
“We believed Sarah died in Prague.”
“Believed.”
Mitchell nodded toward the call log.
“Apparently we were wrong.”
Emily stared at the unknown number.
“Can you trace it?”
“Not from this phone.”
“Where are we going?”
“To someone who can.”
They drove another hour before reaching an isolated compound carved into the base of a hillside.
A metal door opened.
Tyler Jensen stood inside.
Emily got out.
Jensen looked relieved.
“You look terrible.”
Emily punched him.
He stumbled backward.
Mitchell sighed.
“I probably should have warned you.”
Jensen rubbed his jaw.
“What was that for?”
“You knew.”
“About Crowe?”
“My father.”
Jensen shook his head.
“Only pieces.”
“Garrett?”
“Mitchell told me Garrett was trying to help.”
“You could have told me before I boarded.”
“I tried. Crowe took my phone and changed assignments.”
Emily looked at him.
“You left me that recorder.”
“Yes.”
“You found me after the fall.”
“Yes.”
“And lied to Voss.”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“We’re even.”
Jensen looked doubtful.
Inside the bunker sat banks of communications equipment.
A woman in civilian clothes turned from a computer.
Emily reached for her pistol.
The woman raised both hands.
“Captain Carter.”
“Who are you?”
“Dr. Lena Ortiz. Signals intelligence.”
“Current?”
“Former.”
Emily looked at Mitchell.
“Does everyone in your group officially not exist?”
Ortiz smiled.
“It saves on paperwork.”
Emily handed her the phone.
“Trace this number.”
Ortiz connected it.
While she worked, Emily explored her father’s archive.
Financial spreadsheets.
Contract records.
Encrypted emails.
Military shipment logs.
One document listed payments routed through shell corporations.
Emily recognized one company.
Helix Strategic Solutions.
Crowe’s former employer.
Another document listed names.
Some were military.
Some political.
Some corporate.
Beside each appeared letters.
A.
P.
C.
R.
Emily pointed.
“What do these mean?”
Mitchell leaned closer.
“Access. Protection. Control. Removal.”
Emily’s eyes moved down.
ROBERT CARTER — R.
Her father had been marked for removal.
Below him:
SARAH BENNETT — R.
Then:
FRANK GARRETT — C.
Controlled.
Next:
WILLIAM MITCHELL — R.
Emily looked at him.
“They ordered your death.”
“Yes.”
“You faked it first.”
“I was lucky.”
Then she found her own name.
EMILY CARTER — R.
No surprise.
But beside it was something else.
Priority One.
Jensen looked over her shoulder.
“Why would you be more important than your father?”
Emily shook her head.
Ortiz spoke from across the room.
“Got it.”
Everyone turned.
“The call bounced through six networks, but the original handshake came from Europe.”
“Where?”
“Switzerland.”
Mitchell swore quietly.
Emily looked at him.
“What?”
“The Council used Geneva during Robert’s investigation.”
Ortiz brought up a map.
“The source was within a three-mile radius.”
A red circle appeared.
Emily recognized nothing.
Mitchell did.
He walked closer.
“That’s impossible.”
“What?”
He pointed at a building.
“St. Catherine Medical Institute.”
“Hospital?”
“Private research facility.”
Emily frowned.
“So?”
“That’s where Sarah Bennett supposedly died.”
Silence.
Emily stared at the map.
A new message appeared on the phone.
COME ALONE.
Attached coordinates matched the institute.
Another message followed.
IF MITCHELL COMES, I LEAVE.
Emily looked at him.
“She doesn’t trust you.”
“She shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
Mitchell said nothing.
“Why?”
He finally answered.
“Because I was there the night Sarah disappeared.”
Emily’s hand went to her sidearm.
“What did you do?”
“I followed Robert’s orders.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Mitchell looked exhausted.
“Sarah had stolen the Council’s internal ledger. Robert believed there was a mole inside our team.”
“Who?”
“We never knew.”
“So you moved her.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“To Prague.”
“And?”
“Our convoy was attacked.”
“Sarah died.”
“That’s what I believed.”
“You saw her body?”
“No.”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“Everyone in my life dies without anyone seeing a body.”
Mitchell did not defend himself.
A warning alarm suddenly sounded.
Ortiz turned to her screens.
“We’ve got movement.”
“How many?”
“Three vehicles.”
Jensen loaded a rifle.
“Crowe?”
Ortiz zoomed a drone feed.
“No.”
Emily studied the arriving convoy.
Black SUVs.
Not military.
Men exited wearing civilian tactical gear.
One man stepped forward without a weapon.
Lieutenant Colonel Michael Hayes.
Emily blinked.
“He told me to sit the mission out.”
Mitchell raised his rifle.
Emily pushed it down.
“Wait.”
Hayes approached the bunker entrance alone.
A camera speaker activated.
“Emily.”
She pressed the intercom.
“Colonel.”
“Glad you’re alive.”
“Interesting way of showing it.”
“I tried to keep you off that aircraft.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because Crowe knows you survived.”
“I assumed that.”
“He knows about Mitchell too.”
Mitchell looked at Emily.
Hayes continued.
“You have approximately thirty minutes before he sends people who won’t bother talking.”
Emily studied him through the camera.
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
At least everyone was finally giving the same answer.
Hayes removed something from his jacket.
A sealed envelope.
He held it toward the camera.
“Your father gave this to me twelve years ago.”
Emily’s pulse changed.
“Twelve?”
“Yes.”
“My father had been dead six years.”
“I know.”
Emily stared at him.
Hayes said, “That’s the problem.”
Mitchell went rigid.
“What did he say?”
Hayes looked directly into the camera.
“He told me to give it to Emily only if the Council ever tried to kill her.”
Emily unlocked the outer door.
Mitchell grabbed her arm.
“This could be a trap.”
“So was my helicopter.”
She stepped outside.
Hayes handed her the envelope.
The seal was intact.
On the front was her father’s handwriting.
FOR EMILY.
ONLY AFTER THEY TRY.
She opened it.
Inside was a single page.
Emily read silently.
Then again.
Jensen moved closer.
“What does it say?”
Emily’s face had gone white.
She handed the letter to Mitchell.
He read the first line.
His knees nearly gave out.
Robert Carter had written:
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, EMILY, THEN I FAILED TO STOP THEM.
The next line was worse.
THE COUNCIL IS NOT LED BY ADRIAN VALE.
Mitchell looked up.
Emily kept reading.
THE PERSON WHO ORDERED MY DEATH WAS SOMEONE YOU KNOW.
At the bottom was a name.
Emily stared at it.
Before she could speak, Ortiz shouted from inside.
“Incoming transmission!”
A live video appeared on every monitor.
Jack Crowe sat in a dark room.
Beside him was Colonel Frank Garrett.
Garrett’s face was bruised.
His hands were tied.
Crowe smiled.
“Emily.”
She raised the letter.
“You want this?”
“No.”
Crowe leaned toward the camera.
“I want the name at the bottom.”
Emily looked down.
Then Crowe dragged another prisoner into view.
Tyler Jensen whispered, “Oh my God.”
A middle-aged woman appeared on-screen.
Margaret Carter.
The woman who had raised Emily.
Her mother.
Crowe put a pistol against Margaret’s head.
“You have six hours,” he said.
Then Margaret looked directly into the camera.
“Emily, don’t give him the letter.”
Crowe smiled.
Margaret continued.
“The name Robert wrote is wrong.”
Emily froze.
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears.
May you like
“Because I’m the one who changed it.”
The screen went black.
