Chapter 5 - THE NAME BEHIND THE ORDERS
Senator Elias Voss was one of the most powerful men in Washington.
He had chaired defense committees.
He had appeared beside admirals.
He had shaken hands with presidents.
And according to Brock, he had ordered my brother's disappearance.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Mercer said, “Brock, you have no idea what you're accusing.”
Brock looked at him.
“I saw the authorization.”
“Where?”
“On the transfer order.”
“Who signed it?”
Brock hesitated.
“Voss's office.”
“That doesn't prove he ordered anything.”
“No.”
Brock looked at me.
“But the authorization code belonged to someone else.”
“Whose?”
Brock's eyes moved to Mercer.
“Yours.”
I stared.
“My authorization?”
He nodded.
“Your old Black Harbor command code.”
Mercer looked at me.
“That code was deactivated.”
“Apparently not.”
Reed stepped forward.
“Then someone has been using Captain Hayes's identity for years.”
Mercer nodded.
“Which means someone wanted every operation connected to her.”
I looked at the watch.
“The person using my authorization isn't trying to frame me.”
Mercer studied me.
“They're trying to make you look responsible.”
“For Michael.”
“And Black Harbor.”
“And my father's death.”
Mercer nodded.
I looked at Brock.
“You said you saw the order.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
He looked at the floor.
“Gone.”
“Destroyed?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how do you remember it?”
He swallowed.
“Because I photographed it.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Where's the photograph?”
“I gave it to someone.”
“Who?”
“My wife.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because I knew someday I'd need proof.”
“Where is she?”
Brock's face changed.
“She disappeared three years ago.”
The room went silent.
Reed frowned.
“Why didn't you report that?”
“I did.”
“Missing person?”
“Yes.”
“Result?”
“Nothing.”
I looked at him.
“What was her name?”
“Laura.”
“Last name?”
“Sullivan.”
I remembered something.
A photograph.
The same woman had appeared in an old personnel file.
Civilian intelligence analyst.
Access level higher than most commanders.
I looked at Mercer.
“Did Laura Sullivan work Black Harbor?”
Mercer nodded.
“She did.”
“And she disappeared?”
“Yes.”
Brock looked at me.
“She knew what happened to Michael.”
That changed everything.
If Laura had the transfer order, she might have the original authorization.
And if she had the authorization, we could identify who had used my credentials.
Mercer immediately ordered a search of the old intelligence archive.
This time, I went with him.
The archive was beneath the operations building.
No secret basement.
No hidden tunnel.
Just a heavily secured room filled with paper records that had survived because digital systems were too dangerous to trust.
We found Laura's file.
Most of it had been redacted.
But one photograph remained.
Laura standing beside Michael.
Both were smiling.
My chest tightened.
There was a handwritten note on the back.
HE TRUSTS HER.
I looked at Brock.
“You never told me they were close.”
“I didn't know.”
He looked at the photograph.
“I thought she was investigating him.”
Reed turned another page.
“There's something here.”
A shipping manifest.
A vessel called Pacific Dawn.
Departure date: seven years ago.
Destination: Guam.
Passenger list: classified.
One name had been manually crossed out.
Michael Hayes.
Another name had been added.
Elias Voss.
I stared.
“Senator Voss was on the ship?”
Mercer shook his head.
“Not physically.”
“Then why is his name here?”
Reed pointed lower.
A signature.
Not Voss.
Not Mercer.
Not Brock.
Mine.
I felt sick.
“That isn't my signature.”
Mercer examined it.
“It was copied.”
“By whom?”
We heard footsteps.
Brock appeared at the archive entrance.
He looked pale.
“Laura.”
I turned.
“What?”
“She used to copy signatures.”
“Why?”
“To move classified personnel without triggering the normal review process.”
Mercer looked at him.
“Why would she do that?”
Brock stared at the document.
“Because she was trying to protect Michael.”
I stepped toward him.
“You said you didn't know she was involved.”
“I didn't.”
“Then how do you know this?”
He pointed at the bottom of the page.
There was a second handwritten note.
Laura's handwriting.
If they ever come looking for Michael, tell Avery to find the blue house.
I looked at Mercer.
“What blue house?”
Nobody knew.
Then Reed spoke.
“There was one in the Black Harbor operation.”
My heart stopped.
“Where?”
“Outside the extraction zone.”
“Who lived there?”
Reed shook his head.
“No one.”
“Then why call it a house?”
“Because Michael used it as a reference point.”
Brock stared at the note.
“Wait.”
He reached into his pocket.
He removed a small brass key.
“I've had this for seven years.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Michael gave it to me.”
“What did he say?”
Brock swallowed.
“He said, ‘If Avery ever comes looking, give her this.’”
He handed me the key.
A tiny blue enamel house was engraved on its bow.
I closed my fingers around it.
For seven years, my brother had apparently been leaving breadcrumbs.
And someone had been making sure I never found them.
Mercer looked at the clock.
“We have another problem.”
“What?”
He pointed to the archive monitor.
Someone had accessed the system again.
This time, the authorization wasn't mine.
It belonged to Elias Voss.
The screen displayed one message.
STOP SEARCHING FOR MICHAEL HAYES.
Then another line appeared.
OR THE NEXT BODY WILL BE YOURS.
Brock stepped forward.
“That's not Voss.”
I looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because Voss never threatened people directly.”
“Then who did?”
Brock stared at the blue key in my hand.
“The person who taught Voss how to disappear people.”
Mercer asked, “Who?”
Brock's face went pale.
“My former commanding officer.”
I waited.
May you like
He whispered the name.
“Admiral Jonathan Vale.”
