Chapter 10 — The Officer Who Knew Too Much
Edward survived.
After four minutes of resuscitation, his heart began beating again.
Doctors placed him in a medically induced coma to protect his brain.
He had given us the phrase.
He had also given us a warning.
Do not trust the man who saluted.
I thought through every military officer connected to my return.
Major Hale had greeted me at the house.
She had not saluted.
The military police officers had not saluted because we were inside an active investigation.
My commanding officer, Colonel Warren Briggs, had saluted me when I boarded the transport home.
He had also arranged my early return.
He knew my flight.
He knew when I landed.
And someone had mailed my DNA sample from the base.
I did not want to believe Briggs was involved.
That was exactly why the warning mattered.
Major Hale listened without interrupting.
“Colonel Briggs had access to your deployment schedule,” she said.
“And my medical materials.”
“Possibly.”
“He helped arrange the early return.”
“He recommended it after investigators reviewed Claire’s messages.”
“Who first brought him the evidence?”
Major Hale paused.
“An anonymous military-family hotline report.”
“From whom?”
“We never identified the caller.”
“What if Robert made the report?”
“To force your return?”
“Or control when I returned.”
My early arrival may not have disrupted their plan.
It may have been part of it.
Margaret expected me in December.
But Robert told Claire I wasn’t supposed to come home yet.
The statement could mean he expected me later.
Or he expected me at a very specific time.
“What happens at the repository tomorrow?” I asked.
Marcus answered.
“The Legacy Archive’s security system activates fully at noon on the first business day after formal trustee notification.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“Before noon?”
“It remains in transition mode.”
“Meaning?”
“Documents can be accessed with the trustee key and phrase, but the automatic federal reporting systems are not yet active.”
Robert wanted to enter before noon.
After noon, any attempt to access Project Harbormaster would trigger federal notification.
“He has a narrow window,” I said.
Major Hale nodded.
“So do we.”
We needed to reach the repository first.
The facility was located beneath an old Carter-owned shipping office near the naval yard.
On paper, it stored property records.
In reality, it contained the private archive.
Access required the anchor key, biological confirmation, and Edward’s phrase.
We lacked the key.
Robert lacked the phrase.
Unless the transmitter beneath Edward’s bed had captured it.
Major Hale’s technician examined the device.
“It was transmitting live.”
“Could Robert hear the phrase?”
“The device was active until we removed it.”
Then he had everything except our current biometric confirmation.
Marcus said, “The archive scanners require living tissue response. Stored samples will not work.”
“He needs at least one of us.”
“Possibly all three.”
Claire entered the room.
“No.”
I turned.
She had heard enough from the doorway.
“We are not taking Ethan into that facility.”
“I agree.”
“Then how do we open it?”
“We don’t.”
“You believe the evidence about your father is inside.”
“It can stay there.”
Claire studied me.
“You don’t mean that.”
“My son is not a key.”
“No. But Robert will keep coming until the archive is secured.”
She was right.
As long as the facility remained vulnerable, Ethan would remain a target.
“We can simulate his biometric confirmation,” Major Hale said.
Marcus shook his head.
“The system reads genetic markers, temperature, pulse, and oxygenation.”
“Then we build a controlled proxy.”
“With federal technical support?”
Hale nodded.
“We notify the appropriate agency.”
Marcus’s expression darkened.
“Arthur specifically avoided federal agencies because he believed Harbormaster was compromised from within.”
“That was decades ago.”
“And Edward just warned us not to trust an officer.”
Major Hale looked at me.
“You think Briggs is the traitor?”
“No. I think he may be connected.”
My phone vibrated.
Colonel Briggs’s name appeared on the screen.
Nobody spoke.
I answered.
“Colonel.”
“Captain Carter, I heard about the hospital.”
“From whom?”
A pause.
“Major Hale’s office filed a report.”
Hale shook her head.
No report had been filed yet.
Briggs continued.
“I’m coming to assist.”
“Where are you?”
“Twenty minutes away.”
I looked at Major Hale.
She immediately sent officers to locate him.
“Colonel, did you mail a sealed package to my mother?”
Silence.
“What package?”
“My razor. Medical material. DNA.”
“That is a serious accusation.”
“It was a question.”
“I have done everything possible to protect you.”
“Then tell me who reported the welfare concern.”
“I don’t know.”
“You approved my return without knowing the source?”
“The report included verified images.”
“Images from the hidden nursery camera?”
Another pause.
Then Briggs said, “Daniel, do not go to the repository.”
Every person in the room went still.
I had never mentioned the repository to him.
“How do you know about it?”
The line disconnected.
Major Hale traced the call.
The signal came from the hospital parking garage.
Briggs was already there.
Officers moved to intercept him.
Security cameras showed a man in uniform entering the lower level.
He wore a colonel’s insignia.
His face was partially hidden beneath a cap.
I headed toward the elevator.
Major Hale blocked me.
“You stay here.”
“He knows where my family is.”
“And he may be armed.”
“I’m armed.”
“You are also emotionally compromised.”
I looked at her.
“That phrase came from Voss’s evaluation.”
She realized it at the same moment I did.
The language used to declare me unfit had entered military channels.
Someone had been writing the narrative before I returned.
Major Hale stepped aside.
“But you stay behind my team.”
We descended to the garage.
The air smelled of concrete and exhaust.
Our footsteps echoed between parked cars.
The cameras had lost the figure near Level Three.
Major Hale’s team moved in two lines.
We found the uniform jacket beside a stairwell door.
The insignia was real.
The man wearing it was not Briggs.
A hospital orderly had been forced to put it on and walk beneath the cameras.
He was found tied inside a vehicle.
My phone rang again.
Briggs.
This time, Major Hale answered on speaker.
“Colonel, identify your location.”
“I’m at Peterson Airfield.”
An officer confirmed his access badge had entered the base thirty minutes earlier.
The call from the parking garage had been spoofed.
“Did you tell Captain Carter not to enter the repository?” Hale asked.
“No.”
“Did you call him five minutes ago?”
“No.”
Briggs’s voice hardened.
“Someone has cloned my command authentication.”
I asked, “Did you send my mother a package?”
“No.”
“Did you know about Project Harbormaster?”
A longer silence followed.
“Yes.”
Major Hale looked at me.
“How?”
Briggs exhaled.
“Because your father contacted me the week before he died.”
I gripped the phone.
“You knew him?”
“We served together years earlier.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That Harbormaster identified a security breach inside the military procurement chain.”
“Who was responsible?”
“He refused to say over the phone.”
“Did you meet him?”
“We were supposed to meet the morning after his accident.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because your grandfather warned me that the same people would target you.”
“My grandfather knew?”
“Yes.”
“Was Margaret involved?”
“I don’t know.”
“Robert says my grandfather was laundering money.”
“Robert lies with pieces of truth.”
“What truth?”
“Arthur moved money through shell companies.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Briggs continued.
“But he wasn’t stealing it. He was financing an unofficial counterintelligence operation.”
Project Harbormaster had not been a criminal enterprise.
It had been a trap.
Designed to identify whoever was selling military navigation technology.
“Who did it identify?” I asked.
“Thomas sent me one word before he died.”
“What word?”
“Reed.”
Every person turned toward Marcus.
He stood perfectly still.
Briggs continued.
“I assumed it referred to Marcus Reed.”
Marcus’s face drained of color.
I lowered the phone.
“Tell me he was wrong.”
Marcus looked at the armed officers surrounding us.
Then at me.
“He was.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Reed wasn’t a person.”
“What was it?”
“A company.”
“Whose company?”
May you like
Marcus swallowed.
“Mine.”
