Chapter 9: Raymond's Last Copy
"Back wall!""
Reed kicked aside boxes.
The air grew harsher.
My eyes watered.
Captain Brooks pulled her shirt over her nose.
"Find another exit.""
"There isn't one," Nolan said.
I forced myself to think.
Storage units were metal partitions.
Not bunkers.
"Above us.""
Reed looked up.
The walls ended near the roof structure.
He understood immediately.
"Help me with the table.""
We dragged the folding table against the rear wall.
Reed climbed onto it.
Still too low.
Nolan stacked two boxes.
"Those have evidence.""
"We need lungs to use evidence," Reed snapped.
He climbed higher.
His fingers caught the wall edge.
He pulled himself up.
The metal partition shook.
"There's space.""
He disappeared over the top.
Seconds later, we heard him land in the neighboring unit.
"Stand back!""
Something crashed.
Then again.
A side panel buckled.
Reed kicked until a gap opened.
Brooks went first.
Then Nolan.
I crawled through last.
We escaped through the neighboring unit's unlocked door.
Outside, the service lane was empty.
A portable machine sat beside Unit 117, connected to a hose running beneath the door.
No attacker.
No vehicle.
Brooks photographed it.
"Nobody touches anything.""
Nolan called local police.
Reed stared down the lane.
"They knew exactly where we were.""
Brooks looked at the storage unit.
"Which means someone tracked us.""
I thought about our phones.
Vehicles.
Base radios.
Then Keller.
"Cross knew Keller had insurance.""
Brooks nodded.
"But maybe not where.""
Nolan emerged carrying the laptops.
"Then how did someone beat us here?""
Nobody answered.
My phone was still in evidence back on base.
Reed's was with him.
Brooks checked hers.
Nolan checked his.
Then I noticed something attached beneath the security vehicle.
A blinking light.
"Captain.""
She crouched.
A magnetic tracker.
Reed swore.
Brooks stood.
"Cross didn't need to know where Keller's evidence was. He only needed to follow us.""
Local police arrived minutes later.
Brooks contacted an outside investigative office and arranged immediate transfer of the evidence.
This time, she didn't use base systems.
We waited at the storage facility until two investigators arrived in an unmarked vehicle.
Special Agent Daniel Mercer introduced himself.
He examined Brooks's credentials, then the copied files.
"You understand what you're alleging?""
Brooks replied, "I'm not alleging anything. I'm transferring evidence.""
Mercer nodded.
"Good answer.""
He looked at me.
"You're Corporal Miller?""
"Yes.""
"The Marine Hale assaulted?""
"Yes.""
"The same Marine whose signature appears on the disputed receiving records?""
"Yes.""
He studied me for a moment.
"You've become very inconvenient to somebody.""
Reed folded his arms.
"She's noticed.""
Mercer didn't smile.
He collected one evidence copy.
"From this moment, don't assume rank equals trust.""
Those words stayed with me.
Back at Camp Redstone, the gates were locked down.
Victor still hadn't been found.
Neither had Keller.
That stopped me cold.
"What do you mean Keller's gone?"" Brooks demanded.
The duty officer looked miserable.
"General Cross ordered him transferred.""
"Transferred where?""
"Regional holding.""
"By whom?""
The officer checked.
"Two security personnel.""
"Names.""
He gave them.
Nolan immediately searched the roster.
His face changed.
"Those names don't exist.""
Brooks closed her eyes.
Cross had taken Keller.
Or Victor had.
Maybe both.
We hurried toward headquarters.
General Cross wasn't there.
His aide claimed he'd left for an emergency command meeting.
"Where?""
"I wasn't told.""
Brooks stared at him.
"That's convenient.""
We returned to security.
Nolan began analyzing Keller's second laptop.
Most folders duplicated what we'd already found.
Then I saw a directory titled MILLER.
My name.
Again.
"Open it.""
Inside were background records.
Duty schedules.
Training assignments.
Photographs.
My apartment.
My car.
My mother.
I felt sick.
Reed put a hand on my shoulder.
"Why were they watching you before Warehouse Four?""
That was the question.
The surveillance photographs dated back nearly seven weeks.
Long before I'd seen Victor moving crates.
Brooks scrolled.
"Sarah, did you know Raymond?""
"No.""
"Ever meet him?""
"Not that I remember.""
Nolan opened a photograph.
Marcus Raymond stood outside the base exchange.
A woman was walking past him.
Me.
The date was two months earlier.
Another photograph showed Raymond watching me from across a parking lot.
"What the hell?""
Reed leaned closer.
"Maybe he was watching someone else.""
Then Nolan found an audio file.
Filename:
FOR_SARAH_MILLER.
My mouth went dry.
"Play it.""
Raymond's voice filled the room.
"Corporal Miller, if this reaches you, I'm sorry.""
I stared at the speaker.
"You don't know me, but I know who your father was.""
My entire body went rigid.
My father, James Miller, had died when I was fourteen.
Truck accident.
At least that was what I'd always been told.
Raymond continued.
"Your father worked for one of Hale's predecessor companies. He discovered the same shipping route I did.""
I couldn't breathe.
Reed whispered, "Sarah...""
The recording continued.
"I found his name in old files. That's why I started watching you. I needed to know if anyone else had figured out who you were.""
My hands went numb.
Brooks leaned toward the speaker.
Raymond's voice cracked.
"They did.""
A pause.
"Cross knows.""
I felt the room tilt.
Then Raymond said something that shattered every assumption I'd carried since childhood.
"Sarah, your father's death wasn't an accident.""
Silence.
I couldn't move.
Couldn't speak.
Then Raymond continued.
"And I can prove it.""
Nolan whispered, "There's another file.""
He clicked it.
A scanned photograph appeared.
My father stood beside a much younger Nathan Cross.
Between them was a third man.
Victor Hale.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
Four days before my father died.
May you like
And beneath it were five words:
JAMES MILLER TRIED TO WARN ME.
