Six minutes later.
Possible.
Then she looked at David’s wrist.
He was wearing his watch.
Elena froze.
She remembered that watch.
A stainless-steel diving watch she had given him on their tenth anniversary.
The week before his final mission, it had broken.
David had left it on their kitchen counter.
She had picked it up herself after military officers arrived to tell her he was missing.
The watch was still in her home.
In Virginia.
Inside a wooden box.
Elena stared at the video.
“That isn’t David’s original recording.”
Grace looked over.
“What?”
“The watch.”
She explained.
Grace frowned.
“So?”
“The video was staged.”
“Deepfake?”
“No. That technology wasn’t good enough twelve years ago.”
“Then when was it recorded?”
Elena looked at the metadata.
Creation date: nine days ago.
She almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because finally, somebody had made a mistake.
“They wanted me to believe David had survived.”
Grace stared.
“Why?”
Elena looked toward the map showing Rodriguez’s escape route.
“To make me leave the base.”
She grabbed her radio.
“Lock down Room 17.”
Static.
Then a voice.
“Admiral, Room 17 just lost power.”
Elena ran.
Chapter Ten
The corridor was empty when Elena reached it.
Door 17 stood open.
The server lights were dark.
One rack had been removed.
Not destroyed.
Removed.
A trail of wheel marks ran across the floor.
Grace arrived behind her.
“They took the primary array.”
“When?”
“While we were trapped.”
Elena examined the floor.
Fresh scrape marks.
The stolen server had been placed on a rolling equipment platform and moved through another exit.
She looked toward the wall.
“There has to be another way out.”
They searched.
Behind Server Rack Three was a narrow maintenance door.
It opened into an underground utility tunnel.
Elena entered.
The tunnel smelled of damp earth.
Tracks from small industrial wheels marked the floor.
They followed.
Two hundred yards.
Then three hundred.
The tunnel rose beneath the old vehicle depot.
A hatch stood open.
Outside, an ambulance was disappearing toward the north fence.
Elena grabbed a radio.
“Stop medical transport approaching North Gate.”
No answer.
“North Gate, acknowledge.”
Static.
Grace looked at her.
“They’ve got the network.”
Elena pointed to a nearby tactical vehicle.
“Keys.”
“In it.”
They climbed inside.
Grace drove.
The ambulance reached the gate.
The barrier lifted.
“How?”
Grace accelerated.
The ambulance crossed through.
The barrier lowered.
Grace did not slow.
“Elena.”
“Do it.”
The tactical vehicle smashed through the lightweight barrier.
Metal snapped away.
An alarm screamed.
They pursued the ambulance onto a service road north of the installation.
Grace drove like someone with nothing left to protect.
Dust exploded behind them.
Elena called state authorities on a secure satellite phone.
The ambulance turned onto a dry ranch road.
Then stopped.
Abruptly.
Grace braked.
The vehicle sat beneath a single floodlight attached to an abandoned storage barn.
Back doors open.
No driver.
No passengers.
The server rack remained inside.
Elena stared.
“Another breadcrumb.”
Grace nodded.
They approached carefully.
The rack contained no explosives.
No hidden person.
Only a laptop resting on top.
Its screen glowed.
A video call was waiting.
Elena pressed accept.
A man appeared.
Not David.
General Marcus Vale.
Silver hair.
Blue shirt.
Sitting in what looked like a private study.
He looked terrified.
“Elena?”
“You know me?”
“Of course I know you.”
“Where are you?”
“My house.”
“Virginia?”
“Yes.”
Grace leaned into view.
Vale’s eyes widened.
“Grace?”
“You called me today.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Grace stared.
“You sent a representative.”
“I haven’t spoken to you in years.”
Elena believed him.
Not completely.
Enough.
Vale leaned closer.
“Listen to me. Someone accessed a classified archive under my authorization credentials four days ago.”
“Nightglass.”
His face changed.
“How do you know that name?”
“Because my husband knew it.”
Vale closed his eyes.
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“David.”
“Tell me.”
Vale looked toward something offscreen.
“I tried to shut Nightglass down.”
Grace scoffed.
“My father said you protected it.”
“Your father helped build it.”
Grace went still.
Vale continued.
“Andrew Mercer wasn’t investigating Nightglass. He was its research director.”
Grace’s face drained.
“No.”
“He falsified the Vance crash review.”
“Why?”
“Because David exposed him.”
Elena gripped the laptop.
“Was my husband killed?”
Vale hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
“That isn’t good enough.”
“I know he boarded the helicopter.”
Elena’s throat tightened.
“And?”
“I know the aircraft had been tampered with.”
Grace whispered, “Who did it?”
Vale stared at the screen.
“We never found out.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“A small internal team.”
“Rodriguez?”
Vale looked confused.
“Who?”
“Sergeant Major Luis Rodriguez.”
“I don’t know that name.”
Elena stopped.
“What?”
“I’ve never worked with anyone named Luis Rodriguez.”
Grace shook her head.
“He was part of Nightglass.”
“No.”
“He rescued me from the assessment.”
Vale stared at her.
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