Chapter 2 - The Man Who Knew 417
Elena didn't move.
Neither did Admiral Vale.
The stranger was perhaps sixty, lean, gray at the temples, dressed in an ordinary dark suit that somehow made him look more dangerous than everyone wearing a uniform.
"Who are you?" Elena demanded.
His smile disappeared.
"Dr. Nathan Rourke."
Vale stepped between them.
"Take him."
The two investigators moved immediately.
Rourke raised both hands.
"I came voluntarily."
"You entered a secured Navy facility under a dead man's credentials," Vale said.
"I said voluntarily. I didn't say legally."
One investigator cuffed him.
Rourke continued watching Elena.
"She has Claire's eyes."
Elena's stomach twisted.
"Who is Claire?"
Rourke looked at Vale.
"Still protecting yourself, Marcus?"
Vale's voice became ice.
"Take him inside."
Rourke laughed once.
"Ask him about Harbor Light."
Elena stepped around Vale.
"Wait."
Nobody listened.
"Wait!"
Rourke was taken through the building entrance.
Elena turned toward Vale.
"You have thirty seconds before I start making this conversation very public."
Vale studied her.
Then he nodded toward Holloway's office.
Inside, Elena refused the chair.
Vale closed the door.
"Claire Ward was your biological mother."
Elena felt strangely calm.
Maybe because the sentence was too large to understand all at once.
"Was?"
"She died in 1998."
"The year I was adopted."
"Yes."
"How?"
Vale hesitated.
"Officially, an explosion."
"Unofficially?"
"We never recovered her body."
Elena stared at him.
"Then how do you know she died?"
"We didn't."
That answer hit harder.
Vale opened a cabinet and removed an old folder.
He placed a photograph on the desk.
A young woman stood beside a Navy helicopter.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
Elena's eyes.
She was smiling.
Elena picked up the photograph with trembling fingers.
"Claire."
"Lieutenant Claire Bennett."
"Bennett?"
"Your biological mother's name."
Elena turned the photograph over.
Written on the back were four characters.
C.B. 417.
Her breath stopped.
"What is 417?"
Vale looked toward the closed door.
"A designation."
"For what?"
"For you."
Elena slowly lowered the photograph.
"I'm not a designation."
"No. But somebody wanted you to be."
Vale explained Harbor Light carefully.
It had begun as a classified medical survival program involving military trauma specialists. The legitimate goal had been to improve emergency treatment for catastrophic injuries in remote combat environments.
Then private contractors became involved.
Data disappeared.
Patient records were altered.
Children connected to military families appeared in files where they didn't belong.
Vale had been a young commander then.
Claire Bennett had discovered irregularities.
She threatened to expose them.
Three weeks later, a laboratory annex burned.
Claire vanished.
A five-year-old girl was found miles away after emergency surgery.
"Me," Elena said.
Vale nodded.
"Your scar matched the surgical technique."
"Why didn't you find me?"
"We tried."
"Not very hard."
Pain crossed Vale's face.
"We were told the child died."
Elena laughed without humor.
"Convenient."
"Yes."
"Who told you?"
Vale looked toward the room where Rourke had been taken.
Elena understood.
"Dr. Rourke."
"He signed the death certification."
"Then why is he here?"
"I intend to ask him."
Elena thought of Margaret.
"My mother knew."
"Your adoptive mother knew something."
"How much?"
"I don't know."
Elena grabbed her phone.
Vale stopped her.
"Don't call from that."
"Why?"
"Someone accessed sealed portions of your personnel record minutes after your scar became visible."
"So?"
"So those records hadn't been touched in twenty-eight years."
Elena stared at him.
"Someone was waiting."
"Yes."
"For what?"
Vale looked at the photograph.
"For proof that 417 survived."
The door opened.
Captain Holloway entered.
"Admiral, we have a problem."
"Rourke?"
"No."
Holloway handed him a tablet.
Security footage showed Mercer being escorted across the yard.
Then a man in maintenance clothing approached the group.
The screen flickered.
When it returned, Mercer was gone.
Elena stared.
"Where is he?"
"We don't know."
Vale's expression tightened.
"Lock down the station."
Holloway nodded.
Elena stopped him.
"Why would anyone take Mercer?"
Vale answered.
"Because he exposed your scar."
"He didn't know what it meant."
"Exactly."
Elena understood.
Somebody might think Mercer had seen more than he should.
Her phone buzzed inside her pocket.
Vale looked at her.
"I told you not to—"
"It's a message."
Unknown number.
There was a photograph attached.
Elena opened it.
Her blood turned cold.
Margaret Ward sat at her kitchen table.
Someone had photographed her through the window.
Underneath were six words.
ASK YOUR MOTHER ABOUT THE FIRE.
Elena immediately called.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
"I'm going home."
Vale blocked the door.
"You'll have protection."
"I don't need permission."
"No. But you need to stay alive."
Twenty minutes later, Elena was inside an armored SUV with Vale and two investigators.
During the drive, Vale said almost nothing.
Elena stared at Claire's photograph.
Her biological mother.
A woman she had never known existed.
When they reached Margaret's house, the front door stood open.
Elena was out of the vehicle before it fully stopped.
"Mom!"
Vale followed.
The kitchen was empty.
A chair lay overturned.
A coffee cup had shattered on the floor.
"Mom!"
No answer.
Then Elena noticed something on the refrigerator.
An envelope.
Her name was written across it.
ELENA.
Her hands shook as she opened it.
Inside was a key and a handwritten note.
If they ever discover the scar, go to the storage unit. Do not trust anyone who tells you Claire died in the fire.
Elena read it twice.
Vale read it over her shoulder.
"Storage unit?"
Elena turned the key.
A small metal tag hung from it.
Vale whispered, "My God."
Then they heard a sound upstairs.
A floorboard.
Elena looked toward the staircase.
Vale reached beneath his jacket.
Another step.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Elena moved toward the stairs.
A shadow appeared above them.
Then Margaret Ward stepped into view.
She was holding a gun.
May you like
And she wasn't pointing it at the intruder.
She was pointing it at Admiral Vale.
