Chapter 6 - The Person Beside the President
Cross saw her own name.
For three seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she slowly removed her sidearm and placed it on the table.
Smart.
“That's not me,” she said.
“The access log says it is.”
“Logs can be forged.”
“Today has made that painfully obvious.”
She stepped back.
“You know where I was at 4:58 this morning.”
I did.
Or thought I did.
Protective briefing.
But if the records were compromised, everything was questionable.
“Give me your credential.”
She did.
I scanned it.
Valid.
That meant nothing.
“Biometric record.”
We pulled the access file.
Fingerprint.
Retinal authentication.
Cross stared.
“Impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
Someone had duplicated her biometrics.
The question was why.
I searched the room entry.
At 4:58 a.m., “Cross” entered.
At 5:04, she left.
Seven minutes later, the first satellite supposedly failed.
I examined surveillance footage.
Corrupted.
Of course.
But one frame remained.
A woman entering the room.
Same height as Cross.
Same hair.
Same suit.
Face turned away.
Then I noticed her left hand.
Wedding ring.
Cross wasn't married.
“Not you.”
She exhaled.
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet.”
We opened the Atlas server room.
Behind an ordinary communications rack was a device the size of a briefcase.
Old architecture.
Modern storage.
My mother's ledger.
Twenty-three years of secrets.
Operations.
Payments.
Names.
But before we could access it, President Hayes summoned us.
We returned to the Situation Room.
Vance stood beside him.
So did the intelligence director.
And one other person.
Vice President Caroline Shaw.
She had arrived twenty minutes earlier.
Gray suit.
Calm demeanor.
Left hand resting on the table.
Wedding ring.
I looked at Cross.
She saw it too.
Too easy.
Never trust the obvious pattern.
Shaw looked at me.
“Dr. Ward, I understand you've identified the source of this morning's attack.”
“Partially.”
“Who?”
“Still verifying.”
Her expression remained neutral.
“Then perhaps we should relocate the President until verification is complete.”
“To Raven Rock?”
Vance looked sharply at her.
Shaw nodded.
“It's the designated continuity site.”
My father's warning echoed.
I studied her face.
“Why Raven Rock?”
“Because that's what continuity planning requires.”
“Even after the system directing us there was proven compromised?”
A pause.
Tiny.
But real.
“Then another secure facility.”
President Hayes watched us.
The room had become a chessboard.
Everyone knew someone was lying.
Nobody knew which piece.
I looked at Shaw's ring.
Then remembered the footage.
The fake Cross had worn a wedding ring.
But why leave one visible frame?
Because someone wanted us to identify Shaw.
A planted clue.
I turned toward the intelligence director.
He looked nervous.
He had looked nervous all morning.
Too nervous.
But nervousness wasn't guilt.
Then Vance adjusted his sleeve.
My father's watch.
KEEP LOOKING CLOSER.
Closer.
Not at people.
At details.
I enlarged the surviving surveillance frame on my tablet.
The woman's ring.
I zoomed.
Not a wedding ring.
A signet.
A tiny symbol engraved on it.
Circle.
Three lines.
Mercer's lapel pin.
I looked around the room.
Who else had that symbol?
Nobody.
Then I remembered the intelligence director's cuff links.
I looked at his wrists.
Plain silver today.
“What happened to your cuff links?” I asked.
Everyone stared at me.
He blinked.
“What?”
“The ones you wore yesterday.”
“I don't understand.”
“Yes, you do.”
His face changed.
Vance moved.
The intelligence director reached inside his jacket.
Cross was faster.
She slammed him against the table.
Agents surrounded him.
“Don't move!”
He laughed.
Not hysterically.
Almost with relief.
“You have no idea what you've done.”
“I'm getting tired of hearing that sentence,” I said.
His name was Arthur Vale.
Director of Strategic Intelligence.
Thirty-one years of government service.
Friend of presidents.
Adviser to generals.
And according to the Atlas, one of the oldest surviving members of Orpheus.
Cross found the signet ring in his pocket.
Vale smiled at me.
“Your mother was brilliant.”
“Don't say her name.”
“I didn't.”
“You don't deserve to.”
President Hayes looked at Vale.
“You manufactured an attack against the United States.”
“No, Mr. President.”
“Then explain.”
Vale looked around the room.
“I protected it.”
“By attempting to remove its elected leadership?”
“By ensuring continuity.”
Hayes's face hardened.
“You don't get to define continuity.”
Vale smiled sadly.
“Presidents come and go.”
Nobody spoke.
“Countries survive because people you never meet make decisions you never know about.”
“That's your defense?”
“No.”
Vale looked at me.
“That's history.”
I stepped closer.
“Where is Thomas Ward?”
He smiled.
“On his way to Raven Rock.”
Vance grabbed him.
“If Thomas dies—”
“He won't.”
Vale's smile widened.
“Not until Elena opens the Atlas.”
I froze.
“You need me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Rebecca encrypted it around a biometric memory pattern.”
“What does that mean?”
“The song isn't merely a password.”
He nodded toward my head.
“It's timing. Cadence. The way Rebecca taught you to reproduce it.”
My mother had made me part of the encryption.
A living key.
Vale continued.
“You can expose Orpheus.”
“Then why would you want me to open it?”
“Because I want Orpheus exposed.”
That made no sense.
Unless—
“You're not controlling today's operation.”
Vale shook his head.
“I tried to stop it.”
“Who is?”
His expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
“The man who resurrected Lantern.”
“Name.”
“I don't know his real name.”
“Then what do you call him?”
Vale looked at Vance.
“Major, ask Thomas who built the second prototype.”
Vance went pale.
“What second prototype?”
Vale smiled.
“Exactly.”
An alarm sounded.
Cross checked her phone.
“Convoy breach.”
My heart stopped.
“What convoy?”
She looked at me.
“The one transporting your father.”
I ran toward the screen.
Traffic camera footage appeared.
A government medical convoy had stopped on a highway outside Washington.
Two vehicles burning.
Agents taking cover.
The ambulance doors were open.
Empty.
Thomas Ward was gone.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Dad?”
Silence.
Then a man's voice.
Not my father.
“Dr. Ward.”
“Who is this?”
“You have something I need.”
“The Atlas.”
“Yes.”
“And you have my father.”
A soft laugh.
“I've had your father for seven years.”
My stomach turned.
“Raven Rock. Midnight.”
“Why would I come?”
“Because Thomas never told you the last secret.”
“What secret?”
A pause.
Then:
“Your mother survived the poisoning.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“She lived another eleven months.”
My hands began shaking.
“And during those eleven months, she helped me build Lantern.”
The line went dead.
A photograph arrived.
My father.
Alive.
Sitting beside a digital clock.
11:06 a.m.
Behind him stood a man whose face was hidden.
And on the wall was a photograph taken twenty-three years earlier.
My mother.
My father.
Arthur Vale.
And a fourth person.
The man holding my father's shoulder.
May you like
On the back of the photograph, someone had written four words:
WE BUILT ORPHEUS TOGETHER.
