Chapter 5 - The Admiral in My Living Room
The image froze.
Naomi grabbed the tablet.
“Can you restore the feed?”
“My security team can.”
“Don't contact anyone yet.”
“Why?”
“Because we don't know who is compromised.”
She was right again.
I hated that more every time.
Daniel stared at the frozen image of Reyes.
“He's pointing the gun at Rebecca.”
I looked closer.
He was.
But that didn't tell us whether she was prisoner, partner or bait.
Then the feed resumed.
Reyes lowered the weapon.
Rebecca turned toward him.
No fear.
They spoke.
No audio.
Then both disappeared.
Naomi deployed a tactical team.
I wasn't allowed to accompany them.
My rank didn't override a domestic federal operation.
Thirty-five minutes later they entered our apartment.
Empty.
No Rebecca.
No Reyes.
But something had been left on our dining table.
A memory card.
I almost laughed at the irony.
The entire nightmare had become increasingly dependent on tiny objects containing enormous secrets.
The card was transported securely.
Its contents changed everything.
Martin Vale had copied the original Nightglass design specifications.
They proved that the compromised transmission capability had not been added by Mercer Strategic Systems.
It existed in the government specifications before Harrison's company ever received them.
Someone inside the defense procurement chain had intentionally designed a backdoor.
Mercer had manufactured exactly what it was told to manufacture.
Harrison's crime was different.
He discovered the problem later and concealed it.
That could still destroy him.
But he had not created the breach.
The card also contained video.
Rebecca appeared first.
“If Evelyn Cross-Mercer is watching this, then Thomas and I probably failed.”
Thomas.
Admiral Reyes.
She continued.
“Your task force was created for a reason you were never told.”
I stared at the screen.
“Reyes suspected Nightglass was compromised before he selected you. He needed an officer outside the procurement network. Someone with operational authority, technical understanding and no financial connection to the contractors.”
That was me.
“He trusted you because your record showed something rare.”
Rebecca paused.
“You couldn't be bought.”
Daniel looked at me.
I said nothing.
“But the people behind Nightglass discovered Thomas was investigating. Then they discovered you.”
The video changed.
Photographs appeared.
Me entering headquarters.
Me jogging.
Daniel at work.
Grant leaving a restaurant.
Patricia shopping.
The entire Mercer family had been watched.
“Daniel was marked as leverage. Patricia was manipulated. Harrison was frightened. Grant's credentials were stolen.”
Grant sat down heavily.
For the first time since I'd known him, he looked genuinely ashamed.
Rebecca returned.
“Everyone around you became a weapon they could potentially use.”
Then the video ended.
One final document appeared.
A financial transfer.
Twenty-five million dollars.
Destination hidden.
Authorization code visible.
Naomi leaned closer.
“What is that?”
I knew.
“Black procurement funding.”
“Can you trace it?”
“Not without authorization.”
“Who can authorize it?”
I looked at her.
“Admiral Reyes.”
Perfect.
The one man we couldn't find.
At 4:12 a.m., Harrison finally told us the rest.
He had met Rebecca eight months earlier.
She had claimed Vale was dead because someone had tried to kill him.
They staged the car accident to protect him.
Reyes helped.
Rebecca then infiltrated Mercer Strategic Systems under an alias to identify who had compromised Grant's credentials.
But someone discovered her.
She disappeared.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Patricia asked Harrison.
“Because Rebecca told me not to.”
“You let me think my sister might be dead.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Patricia laughed through tears.
“That is what everyone in this family says when they're lying.”
Nobody had an answer.
Especially me.
Because I understood too well.
Secrecy could protect.
It could also wound.
At sunrise, Grant approached me.
His wrist was bruised.
He kept a respectful distance.
“Can I talk to you?”
I nodded.
He looked uncomfortable.
Good.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Yes.”
He blinked.
Apparently he'd expected me to make it easier.
I didn't.
“I shouldn't have grabbed you.”
“No.”
“And the coffee thing.”
“Or the jokes.”
He looked down.
“All of it.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“I thought you looked down on us.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“You never talked about your job. Never seemed impressed by anything Dad did. You'd sit there while everybody talked about business like you knew something we didn't.”
“I usually did.”
He almost smiled.
Then didn't.
“I treated you like crap.”
“Yes.”
“I'm sorry.”
I studied him.
An apology wasn't absolution.
But it could be a beginning.
“Don't tell me. Show me.”
He nodded.
Then Naomi entered.
“We found Reyes.”
Everyone stood.
“Where?”
“Naval Air Station Andrews.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“With Rebecca?”
“No.”
Reyes had turned himself in.
Two hours later I faced my commanding officer across an interview-room table.
He looked exhausted.
“Commander.”
“Admiral.”
“You saw the video.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know most of it.”
“Not enough.”
He nodded.
“The twenty-five million?”
“Bait.”
“For whom?”
“The person controlling Nightglass.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
I stared at him.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. I expect you to verify everything.”
That sounded like Reyes.
He leaned forward.
“Rebecca is still undercover.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Vale?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You're remarkably uninformed for an admiral.”
He smiled faintly.
“Compartmentalization works both ways.”
Then his expression hardened.
“Evelyn, the transfer moved last night.”
“To whom?”
“We're tracing it.”
“Why surrender?”
“Because whoever receives the money needs to believe I've been removed.”
I understood.
“You're still running the operation.”
“No.”
“Then who is?”
He looked directly at me.
“You are.”
I stared at him.
“Effective immediately, you have operational command.”
“Who authorized that?”
“The Secretary.”
That silenced me.
Reyes slid a sealed packet across the table.
Inside was a temporary directive.
My actual authority was significantly higher than anything Daniel's family had imagined.
And now I understood why revealing my rank publicly had always been dangerous.
Reyes said, “The person behind Nightglass knows who you are now.”
“They knew before Thanksgiving.”
“Yes.”
“So why act now?”
“Because Harrison's stolen file contained something we didn't know.”
“What?”
“A final page.”
I remembered.
Seventeen pages.
“What's on it?”
“Vale identified the person who authorized the original compromised design.”
“Name?”
“Missing.”
Of course.
“Rebecca has it?”
“Possibly.”
My phone vibrated.
Unknown secure channel.
One photograph arrived.
Rebecca.
Bound to a chair.
Alive.
Behind her was a digital clock counting down from 59:42.
A message appeared.
COMMANDER CROSS-MERCER.
BRING HARRISON MERCER TO PIER 17.
COME WITHOUT FEDERAL AGENTS.
OR REBECCA DIES.
Then another photograph arrived.
This one showed Daniel leaving the federal building ten minutes earlier.
I called him.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
May you like
Then a third message appeared.
WE ALREADY HAVE YOUR HUSBAND.
