Chapter 2 - The Number on the Tags
Nobody moved.
Marcus still held the phone against his ear.
“They know who's here?” Chloe asked.
He ended the call.
“Nothing.”
I stepped toward him.
“Who called you?”
“Business.”
“Marcus.”
His eyes met mine.
For the first time that afternoon, the arrogance was gone.
“You need to leave.”
I almost laughed.
Ten minutes earlier he had wanted to fight me.
Now he wanted me gone.
“Why?”
“My family's security team received a threat.”
Mercer came beside me.
“What kind?”
Marcus looked irritated.
“That doesn't concern you.”
“It concerns me if the call came after someone identified Commander Vale.”
Marcus's eyes flickered.
That was enough.
I held out my hand.
“Phone.”
“No.”
“Then tell me what they said.”
He hesitated.
Chloe touched his arm.
“Marcus?”
He looked at her.
“Someone accessed the estate security system.”
My father frowned.
“From where?”
“We don't know.”
“What did they access?”
Marcus looked at me.
“The guest list.”
My instincts sharpened.
“When?”
“Seven minutes ago.”
Seven minutes.
Almost exactly when Mercer had spoken the words Black Ridge.
Coincidence was possible.
Experience had taught me not to depend on it.
Mercer gestured toward the mansion.
“We should get inside.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
“If someone has access to the security system, the house is the last place we should go.”
Marcus scoffed.
“This estate has better security than most embassies.”
“Apparently not.”
His jaw tightened.
My father said my name.
“Zariah.”
I looked at him.
He seemed older than he had that morning.
“Is someone after you?”
“I don't know.”
My mother finally spoke.
“What was Black Ridge?”
I looked at Mercer.
He looked away.
“Something that happened overseas.”
“What happened?”
“Mom, not now.”
Chloe stepped closer.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Shut us out.”
I stared at her wineglass.
“You laughed while your fiancé threw wine at me twenty minutes ago.”
Her face changed.
“That was—”
“What?”
She had no answer.
Marcus did.
“A joke.”
I looked at him.
“Then laugh.”
He didn't.
I turned to Mercer.
“You said you treated survivors.”
“Three.”
“Names?”
“I can't give you those here.”
“Why?”
“Because two of them died afterward.”
That stopped me.
“How?”
“Officially?”
“Yes.”
“One overdose. One car accident.”
“And unofficially?”
Mercer stared at me.
“They were murdered.”
My skin went cold.
There had been twelve people on the extraction team at Black Ridge.
Seven died inside the compound.
Two died during evacuation.
Three survived.
I was one.
According to Mercer, the others hadn't stayed alive for long.
“Who was the third patient?”
Mercer hesitated.
“You.”
“No.”
“I know.”
“You never treated me.”
“Not directly.”
He looked at my tags.
“I treated the man who carried those out.”
I touched the metal beneath my collar.
I remembered fire.
Smoke.
Gunfire.
A helicopter struggling to remain airborne.
Then darkness.
There were pieces of those hours I had never recovered.
“What man?”
Mercer looked toward the mansion again.
“Elias Ward.”
The name hit me.
Captain Elias Ward.
My second-in-command.
Declared dead at Black Ridge.
“No.”
Mercer nodded.
“He lived for eleven hours.”
I couldn't breathe for a second.
Elias had a wife.
A five-year-old son.
I had attended his memorial.
“He gave you my tags?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said they had been switched during the evacuation.”
I looked down.
The scorched tags had been returned to me months after Black Ridge.
Army property recovery.
At least that was what the envelope had said.
Mercer continued.
“Ward kept repeating a number.”
“7319.”
“Yes.”
Marcus suddenly stepped away.
I noticed.
So did Mercer.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To deal with security.”
“You recognize the number.”
Marcus stopped.
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“Because you've been repeating it for five minutes.”
I moved closer.
“What's 7319?”
“I don't know.”
Mercer looked at him.
“I think you do.”
Chloe stepped between us.
“Stop interrogating him.”
I looked at my sister.
“This could be dangerous.”
“Everything with you is always dramatic.”
I almost didn't recognize her.
“Chloe.”
“You show up after disappearing for months. You refuse to tell us anything about your life. Then suddenly some general salutes you and everybody is supposed to worship you?”
“I don't want anyone to worship me.”
“You always make me feel small.”
That surprised me.
“You think I came here to make you feel small?”
She laughed bitterly.
“You paid my tuition.”
“You needed help.”
“You paid my rent.”
“You needed help.”
“You fixed everything.”
“Because you're my sister.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“And you never let me do anything for you.”
The anger left me.
For one second, I saw the girl I remembered.
Then Marcus put his arm around her.
“She doesn't deserve an explanation.”
Mercer watched him carefully.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
I opened it.
A photograph loaded.
The picture had been taken minutes earlier.
Me.
Standing on the lawn.
Wine across my dress.
Mercer beside me.
Someone was watching us.
Another message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED AT BLACK RIDGE.
I showed Mercer.
His face tightened.
“Inside,” my father said.
“No,” I replied.
I scanned the property.
Windows.
Tree line.
Service road.
Roof.
Nothing obvious.
Then another message arrived.
ASK MARCUS WHAT PROJECT 7319 PAID FOR.
I turned.
Marcus was already backing away.
“Marcus.”
He ran.
Not toward the mansion.
Toward the parking area.
I dropped my shoes.
“Zariah!” Chloe shouted.
I followed him.
Marcus reached a black SUV.
He yanked open the door.
I caught it before he could climb inside.
“What is Project 7319?”
“I don't know!”
“Someone thinks you do.”
“Get away from me.”
“Tell me.”
He looked terrified.
Not of me.
Of whoever had called him.
“My father handles the contracts.”
“What contracts?”
“Defense logistics.”
“I know that.”
“I don't know details.”
“Then why run?”
He looked toward Chloe.
“She wasn't supposed to be part of this.”
My blood went cold.
“Part of what?”
He shook his head.
“I can't.”
I grabbed his jacket.
“Marcus.”
“Your mission wasn't supposed to survive.”
Everything inside me stopped.
He realized what he had said.
I released him slowly.
Mercer arrived behind me.
“What did you say?”
Marcus stared at us.
Then a sharp crack came from somewhere beyond the estate wall.
Mercer shouted.
“Down!”
I tackled Marcus as glass exploded from the SUV.
Guests screamed.
Security guards drew weapons.
I rolled behind the vehicle.
A second shot struck the stone driveway.
Sniper.
I looked toward the distant tree line.
No second shot came.
Then I saw something lying beneath the shattered SUV window.
A small black envelope.
It had been placed inside the vehicle before the shooting.
Marcus saw it too.
“No.”
I reached for it.
“Don't.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Twelve soldiers stood together before the Black Ridge operation.
My team.
But someone had drawn red Xs across eleven faces.
Mine was the only one untouched.
May you like
On the back were six words.
THE LAST WITNESS DIES TONIGHT.
