Chapter 13: The Last General
Flames still climbed into the night sky as firefighters fought to contain what remained of the Ashcroft Foundation for Military History.
Television helicopters circled overhead.
News anchors described it as a tragic electrical fire.
No one mentioned the reinforced concrete levels beneath the museum.
No one mentioned the classified archive.
No one mentioned Sentinel.
Because officially...
None of it existed.
General Thomas Ashcroft sat inside the back of a black government sedan parked two blocks away.
His tailored suit carried traces of soot, but otherwise he looked untouched.
A young physician finished wrapping a small cut on his hand.
"You should go to a hospital, sir."
Ashcroft smiled politely.
"I've survived worse."
The physician nodded and left without another word.
As soon as the door closed, Richard Holloway entered the vehicle.
He sat opposite Ashcroft.
For nearly a minute, neither man spoke.
Finally, Holloway broke the silence.
"The museum is gone."
Ashcroft looked out the window.
"It served its purpose."
Michael Voss climbed into the front passenger seat.
"We lost almost everything."
Ashcroft slowly turned his head.
"No."
"We lost copies."
Michael frowned.
"What about Genesis?"
Ashcroft's expression remained unreadable.
"If Genesis were inside that museum..."
"...Robert Brooks would have found it twenty years ago."
Miles away, Emma watched the news coverage from Walter's workshop.
The reporter spoke confidently.
"Authorities believe the fire began in the basement after an electrical malfunction..."
Emma muted the television.
"They're already controlling the narrative."
Victor nodded.
"Every major network received the same press release."
Daniel sighed.
"They're still powerful."
Nathan folded his arms.
"Powerful doesn't mean unbeatable."
Emma looked at the wall map.
Somewhere...
Thomas Ashcroft was moving.
And for the first time in decades...
He knew someone else understood the truth about Genesis.
The following morning, an encrypted email reached Daniel's laptop.
No sender.
No routing information.
Only a single attachment.
A photograph.
Emma leaned closer.
The picture showed Thomas Ashcroft leaving the burning museum.
Standing beside him...
Was Richard Holloway.
Behind them...
A woman in a dark coat.
Her face was partially hidden.
But one detail stood out.
She held a silver cane with an ivory handle shaped like a raven.
Walter suddenly stood.
"I know that cane."
Everyone looked at him.
"It belonged to Eleanor Whitmore."
Victor searched his memory.
"The former Director of National Archives?"
Walter nodded slowly.
"Officially, yes."
"Unofficially..."
"...she handled Sentinel's historical records."
Daniel frowned.
"I thought she retired years ago."
Walter answered quietly.
"So did everyone else."
Emma enlarged the image.
The woman's face remained mostly hidden.
But around her neck hung a small pendant.
A simple gold key.
Nathan leaned closer.
"Can you zoom further?"
Daniel enhanced the image.
The key came into focus.
Tiny letters had been engraved along its side.
G-01
Emma felt a spark of recognition.
"Genesis."
Walter nodded.
"Possibly."
Victor looked skeptical.
"Or it could be coincidence."
Emma shook her head.
"No."
"They're sending us a message."
That afternoon, Ryan Carter walked into the nearest FBI field office.
The receptionist looked up.
"Can I help you?"
Ryan swallowed.
"I need to report a crime."
Within minutes, two agents escorted him into an interview room.
One introduced herself.
"Special Agent Maria Chen."
Ryan nodded nervously.
"I've been working for people I thought were government contractors."
Maria remained expressionless.
"And now?"
"I think they're criminals."
She placed a recorder on the table.
"Start at the beginning."
Ryan closed his eyes.
For the next three hours...
He told them everything.
Every meeting.
Every payment.
Every envelope.
Every forged signature.
Every lie he had repeated to Emma.
When he finally finished, Maria asked one question.
"Why come here now?"
Ryan stared at the table.
"Because I finally realized..."
"...I was never the villain they recruited."
"I was the fool."
Across the country, Holloway received a phone call.
He listened silently.
Then ended the conversation.
Michael watched him.
"Problem?"
Holloway nodded once.
"Ryan surrendered."
Michael's expression hardened.
"I'll send someone."
"No."
Michael blinked.
"Again?"
Holloway folded his hands.
"Ryan knows very little."
"But Emma believes he knows more."
Michael understood.
"You still want her following us."
Holloway smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
That evening, Walter unlocked a dusty filing cabinet hidden beneath his workshop floor.
"I almost forgot."
He removed a long cylindrical metal tube.
Inside...
An old military survey map.
Emma immediately recognized the symbol.
It marked a decommissioned Air Force communications station in the Appalachian Mountains.
Walter spread the map across the table.
"This place officially closed in 1989."
Victor traced the location.
"There shouldn't be anything there."
Walter smiled sadly.
"There isn't."
Daniel looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
"There isn't a communications station."
"There never was."
Nathan slowly looked up.
"It was built as a cover."
Walter nodded.
"For what?"
Walter pointed to a handwritten note in Robert Brooks' unmistakable script.
If Eve survived... she'll go home eventually.
Emma frowned.
"Home?"
Walter tapped the map.
"Robert believed this was where she first worked."
Victor looked at the coordinates.
"A hidden research facility."
Daniel quietly asked,
"You think she's there?"
Walter answered honestly.
"I don't know."
"But if Genesis lives inside Eve..."
"...and Eve is still alive..."
"...this is where I'd start."
Emma rolled up the map.
For the first time since this nightmare had begun...
She felt they weren't simply reacting anymore.
They had a destination.
A lead.
A chance.
Nathan checked his rifle before placing it back into its case.
"When do we leave?"
Emma looked around the room.
At Daniel.
Victor.
Walter.
Nathan.
People who had become allies because one man had refused to bury the truth.
She smiled.
"At sunrise."
No one noticed the tiny blinking red light hidden beneath the edge of Walter's workbench.
A transmitter.
No larger than a coin.
It had been quietly broadcasting every conversation inside the workshop for the past six hours.
Hundreds of miles away...
Thomas Ashcroft listened to Emma's final sentence through a small speaker.
He smiled for the first time that day.
Then he whispered to himself,
"Good."
May you like
"They're finally going exactly where Eve wanted them to go."
End of Chapter 13
