Chapter 8 - THE ORIGINALThere are moments when a man's entire life can be reduced to one sentence.
For me, it was this:
Grace was the original.
Not a copy.
Not an experiment.
Not a weapon.
The source.
I stared at Lily.
"Explain."
Lily shook her head.
"Not here."
"We don't have time."
"Then we definitely don't have time."
She grabbed Grace's hand.
"We need to leave."
Evelyn blocked the doorway.
"He's coming."
"Who?"
"The man behind Vincent."
Lily went pale.
"You mean him?"
Evelyn nodded.
Grace whispered:
"Who?"
Evelyn looked at me.
"The founder."
"My father?"
"No."
She shook her head.
"The man who created the Wolf."
A helicopter appeared above the warehouse.
The windows rattled.
Then a voice came through the loudspeaker.
"Bring me the girl."
I recognized it.
Not from my life.
From somewhere else.
A memory.
A childhood memory.
My father's funeral.
A stranger standing beside me.
A man with silver hair.
He had placed a hand on my shoulder and said:
"One day, Michael, you will understand what your family truly is."
I had forgotten his face.
Until now.
Lily whispered:
"Marcus Vale."
I stared.
"The founder."
She nodded.
I knew the name.
Every criminal in Chicago knew it.
Marcus Vale was supposed to have died thirty years ago.
But legends like that rarely die when money is involved.
The warehouse doors opened.
He walked in.
Old.
Elegant.
Calm.
He wore a dark suit.
A silver wolf pin.
He smiled at me.
"Michael."
I raised my gun.
"You killed my father."
"Your father died because he couldn't adapt."
"You took my daughters."
"No."
He looked at Grace.
"Elena did."
My blood boiled.
"Don't say her name."
Marcus smiled.
"She stole Archive Zero."
"What is it?"
"Knowledge."
"All this for information?"
"Information can destroy governments."
He looked at Grace.
"Your daughter carries military communications, intelligence networks, financial records, political contacts, and names that have never appeared on paper."
I stared.
"How?"
"Your wife's memory."
Lily interrupted.
"You're lying."
Marcus turned toward her.
"Am I?"
Lily stepped back.
Marcus smiled.
"Ask her."
He pointed at Grace.
"Ask your sister what she remembers."
I looked at Grace.
She was shaking.
"Grace?"
She whispered:
"I remember Dad."
"What?"
"Not this Dad."
She touched her forehead.
"A different Dad."
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
Marcus smiled.
"Now you understand."
Grace continued.
"You were there."
"Where?"
"The laboratory."
She frowned.
"You were holding me."
I couldn't breathe.
"You injected me."
I stepped backward.
"No."
Grace's voice broke.
"You told me everything would be okay."
Marcus watched.
"Memories can be cruel."
I looked at Evelyn.
"What did you do to me?"
She shook her head.
"You were conditioned too."
My mind erupted.
Fragments.
Bright lights.
Elena screaming.
Grace crying.
A needle.
A room.
Marcus.
My hands covered in blood.
Then nothing.
I dropped my gun.
"No."
Marcus stepped closer.
"You've spent twelve years protecting a lie."
Grace moved toward me.
"Dad."
I looked at her.
She was crying.
"I don't care what they did to you."
Her hand found mine.
"You're still my dad."
I squeezed her fingers.
Marcus's smile vanished.
"Enough."
He raised his weapon.
Lily attacked first.
Gunfire exploded.
Evelyn tackled Marcus.
I pulled Grace behind cover.
We fired back.
Marcus disappeared through a side door.
Evelyn chased him.
Lily screamed:
"No!"
We ran outside.
The helicopter was lifting.
Evelyn fired.
The windshield shattered.
The helicopter veered.
Marcus escaped.
But something fell from the helicopter.
A small metal case.
I picked it up.
The case opened with Grace's fingerprint.
Inside was a single photograph.
Elena.
Holding two newborn babies.
Grace.
And Lily.
On the back was a note.
I read it aloud.
ONE OF THEM CARRIES THE MEMORY.
I flipped the photograph.
There was another sentence.
THE OTHER CARRIES THE KEY.
Grace stared at Lily.
Lily stared at Grace.
Neither spoke.
Then Evelyn whispered:
"We have the memory."
I looked at Lily.
"And the key."
The warehouse exploded.
Fire swallowed the building.
We were thrown across the pavement.
When I opened my eyes, Evelyn was gone.
Lily was gone.
And Grace was standing alone beside the burning wreckage.
Holding a pistol.
I stared at her.
"Grace."
She slowly turned.
Her expression was no longer that of a twelve-year-old girl.
"Dad," she said.
Her voice was calm.
"Someone just called me."
"Who?"
May you like
She looked toward the burning sky.
"The man Mom has been hiding from."
