Chapter 10: The Voice of a Dead Man
The phone kept ringing.
Nobody in Frank's workshop moved.
On the monitor, the two men stood beneath the security light. One held the photograph of my father. The other watched the building's entrance with the stillness of someone who had done this before.
My father's name glowed across the screen.
THOMAS CARTER.
I had heard that name spoken at military funerals, on old recordings, and in the quiet moments when I tried to remember the sound of his voice. I had never expected to see it attached to an incoming call.
"Don't answer it," Elias repeated.
I looked at him.
"If someone is using his identity, I need to know why.""
"And if they're using his voice to make you walk into a trap?""
"Then I'll make sure I don't walk into it blindly.""
Frank disconnected the terminal from the external network. The ringing stopped.
For one second, the room seemed to exhale.
Then the phone rang again.
This time, the caller ID displayed a different number.
Frank stared at it.
"That's impossible.""
"What is?"" Grace asked.
"The call is coming through the isolated line. There's no external connection.""
Elias stepped away from the monitor.
"Kill the power.""
Frank reached for the switch.
"Wait," I said.
Everyone turned toward me.
I swallowed.
"Let it ring.""
The sound filled the workshop, steady and insistent. I thought about my father's hands, broad and calloused, resting on the steering wheel when he drove me to school. I remembered the way he used to whistle off-key while making pancakes on Sunday mornings.
He had been a difficult man to understand, but he had never been careless with the truth.
At least, that was what I had believed.
I picked up the receiver.
"Who is this?""
For several seconds, there was only static.
Then a man's voice spoke.
"Nia?""
My knees weakened.
It was older than I remembered, rougher around the edges, but unmistakable.
"Dad?""
Grace covered her mouth.
Elias went completely still.
The voice on the line exhaled shakily.
"Oh, sweetheart.""
I gripped the receiver so tightly my fingers hurt.
"No. No, you don't get to call me that.""
Silence.
"Where have you been?"" I demanded.
"Why did everyone tell me you were dead?""
"I know you're angry.""
"Angry? I buried you!""
My voice cracked against the workshop walls.
"I stood beside your coffin. I watched them fold the flag. I spent years trying to remember what I might have said differently the last time we spoke.""
"I know.""
"Stop saying that!""
I struck the workbench with my free hand.
"You don't know anything about what I've lived through.""
He didn't answer immediately.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed.
"I can't undo those years, Nia. But I can tell you why I disappeared.""
"Then tell me.""
"Not over this line.""
I laughed bitterly.
"Of course not. Another secret. Another locked door. Another person telling me that the truth will have to wait.""
"Listen carefully. The original Black Harbor authorization is stored in a facility outside Norfolk. Your father—"
I froze.
"You just called yourself my father.""
A pause followed.
Then the voice said, "Because I am.""
"Prove it.""
There was a long silence.
"Your mother used to call you her little thunderstorm," he said.
"When you were eight, you broke the kitchen window trying to hit a baseball into the backyard. You blamed the wind. I made you apologize to your mother, then helped you replace the glass.""
Tears burned my eyes.
Those memories weren't public. They weren't in my service record.
But they could have been stolen from family photographs or old recordings.
"Tell me something nobody else knows," I whispered.
His answer came immediately.
"The night before you left for officer training, you asked me whether being brave meant never being afraid. I told you courage was doing the right thing while your hands were shaking.""
My breath caught.
I had never told anyone that conversation happened.
Not Elias. Not Marcus. Not even my mother.
"Where are you?"" I asked.
"Somewhere safe. For now.""
"Why did you let me believe you were dead?""
"Because Reed was monitoring everyone who had access to the original investigation. After I refused to authorize the operation, I discovered that my identity had been used to approve it anyway.""
I looked at the handwritten letter on the workbench.
"I saw your note. You refused to authorize Black Harbor.""
"Yes.""
"Then who signed the order?""
"Someone with access to my credentials and the authority to authenticate them.""
"Who?""
"I don't know. I suspected Reed, but he was only one part of the operation. Northstar had been paying people inside the intelligence structure for years.""
"And the money transferred through your foundation?""
"That foundation was created to protect whistleblowers and their families. When I discovered it was being used to move money, I realized someone had taken control of the accounts.""
"Why didn't you go to the authorities?""
"I did.""
His voice broke on the final word.
"I went to the people I believed I could trust. Within forty-eight hours, my medical records were altered, my security detail was reassigned, and a false report declared that I had suffered a fatal stroke.""
I closed my eyes.
"Did you fake your death?""
"I survived an attempt on my life. A doctor who understood what was happening helped me disappear. I couldn't prove who had ordered the attack, and anyone who knew I was alive became a target.""
"Was Elias involved?""
"No. I didn't know he had survived until recently.""
Elias stepped closer to the receiver.
"Then why were we both left in the dark?""
"Because whoever controlled the investigation needed you separated. Elias had witnessed the extraction failure. Nia had survived it. Together, you could contradict the official report.""
I stared at the floor.
"How did you know I was still investigating?""
"Because someone accessed the archived records last week. Your name appeared in the audit log.""
Frank looked at his terminal.
"That would be the reactivation order," he whispered.
My father continued.
"Reed knows the archive may contain evidence of the original authorization. He also knows the only way to authenticate the final record is through two surviving witnesses.""
"Me and Elias.""
"Yes.""
"And you?""
"I can authenticate the original command credentials, but I can't reach the facility without exposing my location.""
"Then tell me where you are. We'll come to you.""
"No.""
The firmness in his voice stopped me.
"Nia, listen. If you come looking for me, they'll use you to draw me out. That's what they want.""
"Then what do you want me to do?""
"Recover the original order. Get the evidence into the hands of an independent investigator. Do not trust anyone who offers to take custody of it before you have verified their authority.""
I glanced at Bennett's access card.
"Not even Admiral Bennett?""
My father was silent for a moment.
"Richard Bennett made mistakes. I don't know whether he was deceived or compromised. You must judge him by the evidence.""
That answer sounded exactly like him.
It made me hate him a little more for being alive.
"Where is the facility?"" I asked.
He gave me an address and an access sequence.
Then he added, "There's something else you need to know.""
I waited.
"The original order wasn't created to kill your team.""
"Then what was it created to do?""
"To recover a witness.""
"Who?""
"A civilian analyst named Dr. Evelyn Cross. She had discovered the Northstar payments and identified the person authorizing them.""
"And Black Harbor was a rescue mission?""
"It was supposed to be. But someone changed the coordinates so the team would enter an ambush. Cross disappeared before the extraction.""
"Is she alive?""
"I don't know.""
The line crackled.
Then my father's voice grew urgent.
"Nia, whatever happens, do not let Reed destroy the original record. If he does, he'll be able to claim that every surviving document was fabricated.""
A noise sounded in the background.
A door closing.
My father lowered his voice.
"They've found the safe house.""
My heart lurched.
"What? Who?""
"I have to go.""
"Dad, wait!""
"Nia, I'm sorry.""
The line went dead.
I remained frozen with the receiver against my ear.
Then Frank's monitor flashed.
The security feed showed the two men outside the workshop moving toward the entrance.
One had abandoned the photograph.
He was holding a small black device.
Grace drew a breath.
"Everyone away from the windows.""
A deafening crash shook the building.
The workshop lights went out.
In the darkness, I heard Elias shout my name.
Then a second explosion threw me against the workbench.
When the emergency lights finally flickered on, Frank was on the floor, blood running from a cut above his eyebrow. Grace was helping him sit up. Elias stood near the door with a metal bar in his hands.
The entrance hung open.
The two men were gone.
So was the folder containing my father's letter.
I stumbled toward the workbench.
The encrypted drive was still there.
But the access card Bennett had given me was missing.
Then my phone lit up with a message from an unknown number.
*Your father is alive. We know where he is. Bring the original authorization to the naval storage facility by midnight, or Thomas Carter dies for the second time.*
I checked the time.
11:17 p.m.
May you like
We had forty-three minutes.
And somewhere in the darkness beyond Norfolk, my father was waiting for me to decide whether to save him or expose the people who had tried to erase us both.
