CHAPTER 15: THE LAST FILE
The footsteps above us multiplied.
Dozens of them.
Maybe more.
Boots struck the metal stairs in perfect rhythm.
My father looked toward the ceiling.
“They found us.”
Michael tightened his grip around Dad's arm.
“Who?”
Dad's face was pale.
“The people who have been protecting this place.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“Protecting it?”
Dad nodded.
“Blackwood was never abandoned.”
The fire behind us roared louder.
Smoke crawled across the ceiling.
I pulled Daniel toward the emergency exit.
“Move!”
We ran.
The corridor filled with smoke.
Sarah stumbled.
Rebecca caught her.
“Keep going!”
Behind us, something crashed.
The archive door burst open.
Men in black jackets flooded the hallway.
I expected them to attack.
Instead, they stopped.
One man shouted:
“David!”
My father raised his head.
“It's over.”
The man lowered his weapon.
“Not yet.”
He pointed toward the burning archive.
“Harris activated the purge.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means every file is being destroyed.”
I looked at my father.
“Can we stop it?”
He shook his head.
“Not from here.”
“Then what do we do?”
He looked at Daniel.
“Find the last file.”
“What last file?”
“The one your grandfather never found.”
Michael stared at him.
“Where?”
Dad looked at me.
“You already have it.”
I frowned.
“The box?”
“No.”
“The drive?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Dad looked at Daniel.
“His memory.”
Daniel's eyes widened.
I suddenly remembered.
The things he had been trying to tell us.
The blue medicine.
The hospital.
The room.
The phone calls.
Everything he'd remembered was evidence.
My father continued.
“Daniel saw something that nobody else saw.”
“What?”
“The final exchange.”
“Between Mom and Grandpa?”
“No.”
Dad looked toward the burning corridor.
“Between Harris and your grandfather.”
My stomach tightened.
Daniel shook his head.
“I don't remember.”
Dad smiled gently.
“You do.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
The building shook.
A ceiling panel collapsed.
“Daniel!”
He covered his ears.
Then whispered:
“I remember the room.”
“What room?”
“The basement.”
“Which basement?”
“The room with the glass.”
I looked at Michael.
He nodded.
“The observation room.”
Daniel's breathing became faster.
“I saw Grandpa.”
“And?”
“He wasn't alone.”
“Who was with him?”
Daniel opened his eyes.
“Harris.”
Dad nodded.
“They were talking about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
Daniel stared into the smoke.
“They said…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“They said you were the final witness.”
I felt cold.
“Witness to what?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I don't know.”
My father grabbed my wrist.
“You can't stay here.”
“Dad, what am I a witness to?”
He looked at me.
“You weren't supposed to survive.”
Silence.
I stared.
“What?”
Dad's eyes filled with tears.
“When you were five, they tried to make you disappear.”
Michael stepped forward.
“They failed.”
Dad nodded.
“Because I moved you.”
“To where?”
“To another family.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Dad looked at me.
“You don't remember your childhood because parts of it were deliberately erased from the records.”
I shook my head.
“That's impossible.”
“No.”
“Who raised me?”
Dad hesitated.
“Your aunt.”
I stared.
“My aunt died before I was ten.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“She disappeared.”
I couldn't speak.
Dad continued.
“Your grandfather found her.”
“And?”
“She refused to tell him where you were.”
“What happened to her?”
Dad looked away.
I already knew.
“She died.”
The smoke thickened.
Michael shouted:
“We have to move!”
Dad pointed toward a steel door.
“There.”
We ran.
The door opened into a narrow tunnel.
We entered.
Behind us, the hallway collapsed.
The fire was consuming Blackwood.
But we kept moving.
After several minutes, we reached an underground chamber.
There was a single table.
On it sat a laptop.
And beside it was a handwritten note.
My name was written on the envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a message from Dad.
If you found this, then the network has failed.
But you haven't.
The final evidence isn't in a file.
It's in the person who survived.
I looked at Daniel.
Then the laptop turned on.
A video began playing automatically.
My father appeared.
Older.
Exhausted.
He looked directly at the camera.
“If you're watching this, I'm sorry.”
He paused.
“You were never supposed to know.”
The video changed.
I saw myself as a child.
Five years old.
Standing in a hospital corridor.
My mother was holding my hand.
My grandfather stood behind her.
And beside him was Harris.
I stared at the screen.
My father continued:
“That was the night they tried to take you.”
The footage showed a nurse pushing a wheelchair toward me.
I was crying.
Daniel was standing nearby.
He was younger.
He was holding something.
A small red toy car.
I remembered it.
Suddenly everything came rushing back.
The corridor.
The smell of disinfectant.
Daniel screaming.
Dad running toward us.
Then a man grabbing me.
I gasped.
Michael stared at the screen.
“You remember.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
The video continued.
My father appeared again.
“Harris believed you saw something that night.”
“What?”
The screen changed.
A second camera angle.
I was standing near Dad's hospital room.
I saw my grandfather enter.
Harris followed.
They were carrying a medical bag.
Dad's voice continued.
“You witnessed the medication being prepared.”
My heart stopped.
“I was five.”
“Yes.”
“How could I remember?”
“Because Daniel helped you remember.”
I looked at my brother.
He was crying.
Dad continued:
“Daniel was the only person who kept telling you the truth.”
The video paused.
Then a final document appeared.
A medical report.
Patient:
David Whitmore.
Status:
ALIVE.
Location:
BLACKWOOD FACILITY.
Date:
TODAY.
I stared.
Dad was sitting beside us.
But the document was dated today.
I looked at him.
“You knew.”
He nodded.
“They never stopped monitoring me.”
“Who?”
“Harris.”
“Where is he now?”
Dad looked toward the tunnel.
“Leaving.”
“Then we have to stop him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Dad reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small key.
“Harris isn't the real threat.”
I stared at him.
“Then who is?”
Dad looked at Daniel.
Then Michael.
Then me.
“The person who owns the network.”
He placed the key in my hand.
I looked down.
There was a single letter engraved on it.
V.
“Who is V?”
Dad's face went pale.
“You'll find out.”
The underground chamber suddenly shook.
A deep explosion echoed above us.
Then the laptop screen went black.
A new message appeared.
WELCOME HOME.
I stared at it.
Then another line appeared.
YOUR GRANDFATHER IS WAITING.
A door behind us slowly opened.
Cold air rushed into the room.
I turned.
A man stood in the doorway.
Gray hair.
Dark suit.
Cane in his hand.
My grandfather.
But this time, he wasn't alone.
Beside him stood Harris.
And behind them was my mother.
She was crying.
My grandfather looked directly at me.
“You finally remembered.”
Then he smiled.
“Now I can tell you the truth about why your father really died.”
I stepped forward.
“What truth?”
May you like
He raised his cane.
And the entire room went dark.
