Chapter 6 - I didn't answer.There are moments when a sentence is so enormous your mind refuses to accept it.

My mother wanted me dead.

The woman who raised me.

The woman who cried when I left.

The woman who kissed my forehead before every deployment.

The woman I had spent four years trying to protect.

Gwen looked at me.

“She knows your medical discharge was coming.”

“How?”

“She had contacts.”

“That doesn't answer the question.”

“No.”

“What does she want?”

“Your estate.”

“I don't have enough money for this.”

“You have more than you think.”

I frowned.

“My military benefits?”

“Not just those.”

I stared at her.

She looked away.

“David, your father left something.”

I felt the world shift.

“My father died with nothing.”

“That’s what your mother told you.”

I remembered being twelve.

A funeral.

A closed casket.

My mother's grief.

Then silence.

“What did he leave?”

“I don't know.”

“You do.”

“I know where it is.”

“Where?”

“The cabin.”

We drove there before sunrise.

The cabin hadn't changed.

Dust covered the furniture.

The fireplace was cold.

I moved the old cabinet.

Behind it was a hidden compartment.

Inside was a metal box.

No lock.

No key.

Just a note.

For my son. Open only if Margaret breaks her promise.

I stared at the handwriting.

My father's.

I opened the box.

Inside were documents.

Photographs.

A hard drive.

And a military identification card.

Not mine.

My father's.

I looked at the date.

My father had served in the same unit I later joined.

I had never known.

I opened the first file.

It described a classified operation.

Blackridge.

Dr. Adrian Cross.

Military intelligence.

My father's name.

The report stated that several soldiers had been exposed to an experimental psychological program.

The purpose was to manipulate memory.

I read the next page.

One phrase repeated.

Memory suppression protocol.

I stopped breathing.

My father had discovered Blackridge.

He had tried to expose them.

Then he died.

Suddenly Gwen's story made sense.

The white room.

The drugs.

The missing memories.

But there was more.

The final document was a letter.

My father had written:

Margaret was contacted after my death. They told her David would be protected if she cooperated. She agreed. I do not know whether she betrayed me willingly or under threat. If David ever returns home, do not let them near him.

I stared at the page.

Gwen touched my arm.

“David.”

I turned.

“There is another problem.”

“What?”

She pointed to the hard drive.

“It may contain evidence.”

I connected it to my laptop.

Folders appeared.

Most were encrypted.

One wasn't.

SUBJECT D-17

I clicked it.

A video opened.

A younger version of Dr. Cross appeared.

He stood beside a hospital bed.

And on the bed was me.

My heart stopped.

The video date was eight years ago.

I was unconscious.

Cross said:

“Subject D-17 continues to resist memory conditioning.”

I stared.

I had no memory of being there.

Then the camera moved.

Someone stepped into view.

My mother.

She looked younger.

She placed a hand on my shoulder.

Cross asked:

“Are you certain?”

My mother answered:

“Do whatever is necessary.”

The screen went black.

Gwen covered her mouth.

I sat completely still.

Eight years ago.

Before my deployment.

Before our marriage.

Before I knew any of this existed.

My mother had taken me to Blackridge.

Why?

The hard drive contained another folder.

SUBJECT PARTNER: GWEN HAYES

I clicked it.

Video.

Gwen sat in a chair.

Dr. Cross asked:

“Where is David going?”

Gwen answered:

“I don't know.”

Cross smiled.

“You will.”

The video ended.

Gwen was shaking.

“I told you.”

“I don't remember this.”

“I know.”

“No.”

I stared at the screen.

“You do.”

She looked at me.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn't know what I was saying.”

“You knew enough.”

“I was drugged.”

“Then why did you tell them about my deployment?”

“I don't remember!”

Her voice broke.

I turned away.

I wanted to believe her.

But the videos had changed everything.

Then the cabin door creaked.

We both turned.

Nobody was there.

The wind moved through the trees.

I grabbed my weapon.

Nothing.

Then I saw a tiny red light beneath the table.

A camera.

Someone had been recording us.

I ripped it from the wall.

A screen attached to it flashed.

LIVE FEED.

Someone was watching.

Then a message appeared.

NOW YOU REMEMBER THE BEGINNING.

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Another message followed.

WAIT UNTIL YOU REMEMBER THE END.