My daughter sat beside me in the back seat.
“Why aren’t we following Daniel’s message?”
Mark shook his head.
“Because Daniel would never tell us to go there.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know where Daniel is.”
I looked at him.
“Where?”
“Underground.”
My daughter nodded.
“He’s been hiding beneath the courthouse.”
I stared at both of them.
“Why?”
“Because someone issued a federal arrest warrant for him.”
“For what?”
“Treason.”
My stomach dropped.
“My son?”
“He was framed.”
Mark took an exit.
“We need to get the original evidence before they erase it.”
“What evidence?”
My daughter held up the memory card.
“This only contains part of it.”
“Where’s the rest?”
“In Mom’s house.”
I stared at her.
“We just escaped from there.”
“Exactly.”
She smiled sadly.
“That’s why they think we’re running.”
Mark turned onto an abandoned road.
“There is something you need to see.”
Twenty minutes later, we stopped at an old storage facility.
Mark unlocked Unit 417.
Inside were boxes.
Dozens of them.
My daughter’s eyes widened.
“This is all from Mom.”
I walked inside.
Photographs.
Bank statements.
Old computers.
Letters.
And one enormous filing cabinet.
I opened the first drawer.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
I recognized several names.
Judges.
Police officers.
Government officials.
Business executives.
People I had seen on television.
My daughter whispered:
“Dad…”
She pointed to a folder.
My name was on it.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of me from twenty-two years ago.
Then another.
Then another.
There were records of my employment.
My bank accounts.
My medical appointments.
Even private conversations.
Someone had monitored me for decades.
I turned to Mark.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer.
My daughter did.
“Because you inherited something.”
“What?”
She opened another folder.
Inside was a handwritten letter from my father.
I recognized his handwriting immediately.
It read:
Robert, if you’re reading this, Thomas survived. I couldn’t protect him.
I sat down.
The next sentence destroyed me.
I was not responsible for the accident.
Then:
The person who ordered it was someone you trust.
I looked at my daughter.
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“We don’t know.”
Then the storage facility lights went out.
Mark whispered:
“Everybody down.”
A gunshot shattered the darkness.
We dropped behind the filing cabinets.
Another shot.
Then another.
My daughter grabbed my hand.
“Dad, don’t move.”
Footsteps entered the unit.
A voice called:
“You’ve caused enough trouble.”
Mark whispered:
“Stay here.”
He disappeared into the darkness.
I heard a struggle.
Then silence.
“Mark?”
No answer.
The footsteps came closer.
A flashlight appeared.
The beam moved across the floor.
Then stopped on me.
The person holding it stepped forward.
I recognized him.
My father’s former attorney.
Mr. Collins.
He smiled.
“You’ve finally found the file.”
I stared at him.
“You killed my wife.”
His smile disappeared.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
He lowered the flashlight.
“Your wife killed herself.”
I stood.
“Liar.”
He shook his head.
“She discovered what your family had done.”
“What had we done?”
He looked at my daughter.
“Your father wasn’t the villain.”
“Then who?”
Mr. Collins whispered:
“Your mother.”
My daughter gasped.
“My grandmother?”
He nodded.
“Your grandmother created Northstar.”
I felt the room spin.
“My mother died before any of this happened.”
“No.”
Collins smiled.
“She disappeared.”
Then he pulled out a photograph.
An elderly woman stood outside a private facility.
I recognized her immediately.
My mother.
Still alive.
Collins said:
“She has been waiting for you.”
Then someone behind him struck him.
He collapsed.
Mark stood there.
Blood ran down his forehead.
“Run.”
We ran.
Behind us, Collins shouted:
“Your mother is not who you think she is!”
We reached the SUV.
As Mark drove away, my daughter stared at me.
“Dad…”
“Yes?”
“If Grandma is alive…”
She swallowed.
“Then she knows everything.”
And at that exact moment, my phone rang.
The caller ID showed one name.
MOM.
PART 6
I couldn’t answer.
My daughter stared at the phone.
“Dad…”
The ringing stopped.
Then started again.
I pressed the answer button.
“Hello?”
An elderly woman’s voice replied.
“Robert.”
My entire body went cold.
“Mom?”
“Yes.”
I hadn’t heard that voice in twenty-two years.
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere they cannot reach me.”
“Who?”
“The people you have been running from.”
“Why did you disappear?”
She sighed.
“Because your father betrayed me.”
I looked at my daughter.
“What did Dad do?”
“He tried to expose Northstar.”
“But Collins said you created it.”
“I designed the original system.”
“Why?”
“To protect people.”
“Then how did it become this?”
“Because someone stole it.”
“Who?”
Silence.
Then:
“Your wife.”
I nearly dropped the phone.
“My wife?”
“She discovered the modifications.”
“What modifications?”
“Northstar was turned from a surveillance system into a control system.”
My daughter whispered:
“What does that mean?”
My mother heard her.
“Your daughter is with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then listen carefully.”
Her voice became urgent.
“Do not trust anyone who claims to work for the government.”
I looked at Mark.
“What about Daniel?”
“He is the only one who knows the full truth.”
“Where is he?”
“Go to the courthouse.”
“Why?”
“He left something for you there.”
The line went dead.
We drove for another twenty minutes.
When we reached the courthouse, the building was surrounded by police.
Mark stopped several blocks away.
We walked through an underground parking garage.
A maintenance door opened.
Daniel stood there.
My son.
He looked exhausted.
His beard had grown.
His eyes were red.
I hugged him.
He held me tightly.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
I pulled away.
“You’re going to explain everything.”
“I will.”
“Thomas is alive.”
Daniel nodded.
“My daughter was kidnapped.”
“I know.”
“Mom is alive.”
He froze.
“What?”
I repeated it.
“My mother called me.”
Daniel looked at Mark.
Then at my daughter.
“Then we have a much bigger problem.”
“What?”
Daniel took us underground.
Inside a secure room was a wall covered with photographs.
Thomas.
My father.
My mother.
My wife.
Mark.
My daughter.
Me.
Daniel pointed to one photograph.
A man stood beside my mother.
“Who is that?”
Daniel said:
“The original director of Northstar.”
I stared at the photograph.
Then recognized him.
“That’s Mr. Collins.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed to the man beside Collins.
“That is Collins.”
I looked again.
Then I saw the second man.
My blood froze.
It was my father.
Daniel said:
“They worked together.”
“But my father died.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
Daniel looked at me.
“He didn’t die.”
Silence.
My entire understanding of my family collapsed.
“My father is alive?”
Daniel nodded.
“He’s the one running Northstar.”
I sat down.
“Then who died?”
Daniel looked at me.
“A man who looked like him.”
My daughter covered her mouth.
Daniel continued.
“Your father disappeared twenty-two years ago.”
“Why?”
“To build Northstar outside government oversight.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he believed governments couldn’t be trusted.”
I shook my head.
“And Thomas?”
“Thomas discovered the truth.”
“My wife?”
“Your wife helped him.”
“Then why was she killed?”
Daniel looked away.
“She wasn’t.”
“What?”
“She was placed into protective custody.”
My heart stopped.
“What are you saying?”
Daniel opened a folder.
Inside was a recent photograph.
My wife.
Alive.
Standing beside my mother.
I stared at the photograph.
My hands trembled.
“This was taken six months ago.”
I couldn’t speak.
Daniel whispered:
“Mom and Grandma have been hiding from Dad.”
I looked at him.
“Where are they?”
He hesitated.
“That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“They’re coming here.”
Suddenly every light in the building went out.
Daniel reached for his weapon.
A voice came through the speakers.
“Robert.”
I knew that voice.
My father’s voice.
“Come upstairs.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Don’t answer.”
Then the speaker crackled.
“Your family has been lying to you for twenty-two years.”
A pause.
Then:
“But I haven’t.”
The elevator doors opened by themselves.
Inside was a single envelope.
My name was written on it.
Daniel whispered:
“Dad, don’t touch it.”
But I recognized the handwriting.
It was my father’s.
And the message on the envelope said:
THE TRUTH ABOUT YOUR WIFE IS INSIDE.
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