Chapter 5 - Beneath the HouseThe hum came from below us.
Not from the basement.
Deeper.
Nathan stood beside me.
“I hate this.”
“Same.”
Quinn raised his flashlight.
“Stay behind me.”
My mother whispered, “The basement.”
We followed her.
The door opened with a groan.
The air smelled of dust and cold metal.
There were shelves everywhere.
Boxes.
Old furniture.
Christmas decorations.
But the center of the room was strangely empty.
My mother walked toward a wall.
She placed her hand against it.
“Here.”
Quinn tapped the wood.
Different sound.
Hollow.
Nathan found a crowbar.
“Move.”
He pried at the panel.
It came loose.
Behind it was a narrow staircase.
Descending into darkness.
My father had never mentioned this room.
Of course he hadn't.
We went down.
At the bottom was a concrete corridor.
Cables ran along the ceiling.
The mechanical hum grew louder.
At the end stood a steel door.
There was a keypad.
Quinn examined it.
“Three-one-seven.”
My mother looked at me.
The brass key.
I inserted it.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Inside was a server room.
Banks of machines blinked in the darkness.
Fans whispered.
There were monitors on every wall.
Each one showed a different location.
The house.
The garage.
The office.
My childhood room.
Nathan's room.
My parents' bedroom.
The dining room.
The kitchen.
The driveway.
My mother covered her mouth.
“Oh God.”
Quinn walked to the central terminal.
“This has been running for years.”
I looked at the screens.
“There are dates.”
He checked.
“Daily recordings.”
“How far back?”
He scrolled.
“Fourteen years.”
Fourteen years.
The number hit me.
“That means he recorded us before Nathan left for college.”
“Yes.”
“Before Mom knew.”
“Likely.”
I looked at my own image on the screen.
A twelve-year-old girl.
Then fifteen.
Seventeen.
Twenty.
My whole life.
All stored here.
I felt violated by every memory I had ever trusted.
Then Nathan pointed.
“There's another folder.”
Quinn opened it.
The title was simple.
E.M.
My grandfather.
Inside were audio files.
Dozens.
Quinn clicked the first.
Static.
Then my grandfather's voice.
“If you're hearing this, Martin has discovered the archive.”
I stopped breathing.
His voice sounded old.
Weak.
But clear.
“I don't know how much time I have.”
A cough.
“He will tell everyone I was confused.”
Another cough.
“He will say I imagined the accounts.”
A pause.
“He is lying.”
My mother began crying.
The recording continued.
“Martin has been moving funds through Mercer Strategic Defense for years. But the money is not the worst part.”
Quinn leaned closer.
“What is the worst part?” Nathan whispered.
Grandfather answered through the recording.
“The contracts.”
I stared at the screen.
“He is paying people to falsify inspection reports.”
Quinn's face hardened.
My grandfather continued.
“Equipment is being approved before it is safe. Materials are being substituted. Reports are altered. Lives are being placed at risk.”
The room went silent.
“Martin says casualties are a number. He says every system survives.”
My mother whispered, “No.”
The recording continued.
“There is one person who can expose it.”
I leaned toward the speaker.
“Who?”
My grandfather said a name.
I knew it.
“Colonel Quinn Park.”
Quinn froze.
Nathan stared at him.
“You knew my grandfather?”
Quinn didn't answer.
I looked at him.
“Quinn.”
He lowered his head.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He approached me.”
“When?”
“Eleven years ago.”
I felt my pulse rising.
“And?”
“He asked me to investigate your father.”
My mouth went dry.
“Then why did you disappear?”
Quinn looked at my mother.
“She asked me to.”
My mother nodded through tears.
“I begged him.”
“Why?”
“Because Martin found out.”
Quinn continued.
“He threatened to destroy the children.”
Nathan stepped forward.
“You knew all this and never told us?”
“I had no proof.”
“You had eleven years.”
“I had fragments.”
“Then why now?”
Quinn looked at the monitors.
“Because your grandfather's archive just came back online.”
“What triggered it?”
He pointed toward a small box near the server.
A blinking red light.
“Someone activated the emergency transfer.”
“Who?”
He turned.
None of us had touched it.
Then the terminal flashed.
TRANSFER COMPLETE.
I stared.
“To where?”
Quinn read the destination.
His expression changed.
“Every major federal oversight office.”
Nathan's eyes widened.
“So the evidence is already out?”
“Not everything.”
“What is missing?”
Quinn clicked another folder.
There was one final file.
MERCER_17.
He opened it.
A photograph appeared.
A body.
Wrapped in a dark tarp.
I recognized the watch on the wrist.
My grandfather's watch.
Nathan staggered backward.
“No.”
My mother screamed.
And then a second photograph appeared.
May you like
This one showed my father.
Standing over the body.
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