Chapter 8: The Room Beneath the House
Hayes kicked aside the loose boards.
A steel hatch appeared beneath them.
He stared at Daniel.
“You built this?””
“No.””
“Then who did?””
Daniel looked at me.
“Ethan.””
My chest tightened.
Everything had begun with Ethan.
Every hidden room.
Every secret command.
Every impossible message.
Even in death, he seemed to be leading me somewhere.
Hayes pulled the hatch open.
A narrow staircase disappeared into darkness.
“Move,” he said.
We descended.
Ghost went first.
I followed.
Hayes came behind me.
Daniel was last.
The hatch slammed shut overhead just as another burst of gunfire tore through the house.
We reached the bottom.
A concrete corridor stretched beneath us.
No lights.
No windows.
Only a faint red glow coming from somewhere ahead.
Hayes pulled out a small flashlight.
The beam revealed walls covered in maps.
Afghanistan.
Virginia.
Colorado.
And dozens of photographs.
I stepped closer.
My breath caught.
Every photograph was of me.
Leaving the clinic.
Driving home.
Meeting coworkers.
Walking through grocery stores.
Sleeping in my apartment.
There were pictures from years ago.
And pictures from last month.
I felt sick.
“They've been following me.””
Hayes looked grim.
“Yes.””
“Since when?””
Daniel answered.
“Before Ethan disappeared.””
I turned on him.
“You knew.””
“I knew someone was watching you.””
“You didn’t tell me.””
“Because the people watching you were inside our command structure.””
My eyes moved across the wall again.
There were red strings connecting photographs, names, addresses.
One photograph made me stop.
My father.
Taken outside the house where I grew up.
I stared at it.
“My family…”
Daniel looked away.
“Your father knew more than you think.””
I shook my head.
“He was a civilian.””
“Yes.””
“What could he possibly know?””
Daniel pointed to a file attached to the wall.
The name on it was Thomas Cole.
My father.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
Inside were military transfer records.
Dates.
Locations.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
And one document with his signature.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
He had signed a confidentiality agreement connected to Black Hollow.
“No.””
Hayes stepped beside me.
“What does it say?””
I handed him the document.
He read silently.
His face changed.
“What?””
He looked at Daniel.
“This agreement predates the operation by six years.””
Daniel nodded.
“That’s because the operation wasn’t created seven years ago.””
I stared at him.
“It had been planned for years.””
“For me?””
Daniel looked directly at me.
“Yes.””
I felt the room tilt.
“Why?””
“Because your father discovered something.””
“What?””
“He found a pattern in classified medical records.””
My profession suddenly felt very far away.
“Medical records?””
“Service members returned from classified deployments with unexplained neurological damage.””
I remembered the dogs.
The handlers.
The injuries.
“What does that have to do with me?””
Daniel took a drive from the wall.
“This.””
He plugged it into a terminal.
A file opened.
Patient records.
Hundreds.
Military.
Civilian.
Then canine.
My clinic flashed onto the screen.
My stomach dropped.
“No.””
Daniel looked at me.
“Your clinic was chosen because of your work with retired military dogs.””
I stared at the data.
“What were they looking for?””
He pointed to a column.
A neurological marker.
A pattern.
One that appeared in both human soldiers and military dogs.
Ghost was on the list.
So was Ethan.
And so was I.
My heart pounded.
“That’s impossible.””
Hayes looked at the screen.
“Madison…”
I stepped backward.
“What?””
He pointed to my record.
The abnormal marker had first been documented when I was twenty-three.
Five years before I ever joined the military medical program.
Five years before I met Ethan.
Before I knew anything about Black Hollow.
Someone had been studying me long before I ever knew I was part of the story.
Then a new file opened automatically.
A video.
The label read:
THOMAS COLE — FINAL INTERVIEW.
I pressed play.
My father appeared on the screen.
Older.
Exhausted.
Terrified.
He looked directly at the camera.
“If Madison ever sees this, tell her I’m sorry.””
My breath stopped.
My father continued.
“I thought I was protecting her.””
He leaned closer.
“But the truth is, they didn’t choose Madison because of what she knew.””
The video distorted.
His next words came through in fragments.
“They chose her because of what she carries.””
The screen went black.
Nobody spoke.
Then Ghost started growling at the far end of the corridor.
I turned.
A red light blinked above a metal door.
Once.
Twice.
Then the door unlocked by itself.
On the other side was a room filled with medical equipment.
And in the center stood a glass chamber.
Empty.
May you like
Except for one name engraved into the metal beside it.
ETHAN CROSS.
