Chapter 12 - I raised my weapon.The figure stepped into the smoke.
Captain Mercer.
He smiled.
“You really do care about that dog.”
I kept my gun trained.
“Open the hatch.”
“No.”
“Open it.”
“You don't understand what Jax is.”
“I don't care.”
“That is exactly why you're dangerous.”
Mercer lowered the lighter.
“Jax has a memory implant.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He was used as a storage medium.”
“For what?”
“Evidence.”
I stared.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
He kicked the hatch.
“Everything they couldn't store digitally was hidden inside the dog's behavioral conditioning.”
My mind raced.
The unusual commands.
The routes.
The people Jax refused to approach.
The places he had always reacted to.
Memories.
Not data.
Conditioned associations.
Mercer continued.
“Your father trained him.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before Voss.”
The pieces collided.
My father had been part of the original operation.
Jax had been trained to identify locations, people, and danger.
Then I had inherited him.
Without knowing why.
Mercer lifted his lighter.
“Do you know why he reacted to Evan?”
“Because the boy needed help.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Because Evan carries the same marker.”
“What marker?”
Mercer looked at Maya.
“She does too.”
Voss's voice echoed from the corridor.
“That's enough.”
Mercer turned.
Voss stood in the smoke.
His coat was burned.
Blood ran from his forehead.
But he was smiling.
Mercer raised the lighter.
Voss raised a gun.
One shot.
Mercer dropped.
The lighter rolled across the floor.
Voss looked at me.
“Open the hatch.”
I did.
Jax climbed out.
He was limping.
Blood covered one paw.
I dropped beside him.
“Come on.”
He pressed his head against my chest.
Then he pulled away.
He had something in his mouth.
A small metal capsule.
My father went pale.
“No.”
“What?”
He stared at it.
“That's what they were looking for.”
Voss stepped closer.
“Give it to me.”
I stood.
“What is it?”
My father answered.
“The original evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“The names.”
I opened the capsule.
Inside was a tiny strip of transparent film.
A list of names was printed across it.
Hospital directors.
Doctors.
Police officials.
Judges.
One name appeared at the bottom.
THOMAS REED
My father's face collapsed.
“You said you didn't know.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
From whom?
Before I could answer, Evan shouted.
“There's someone outside!”
We turned.
A figure appeared behind the smoke.
Small.
Wearing a red winter cap.
The same cap Evan had been wearing.
Except this child was holding another green dinosaur.
She lifted her head.
And spoke.
“Maya isn't my sister.”
Evan stared.
The girl continued.
“She's yours.”
I looked at Maya.
She began crying.
My father whispered:
“No.”
The girl took one step forward.
Then said:
“Jonathan, you're not the father.”
“Who am I?”
She smiled.
“You're the son.”
The room went silent.
May you like
“The son of the man who started all of this.”
My father dropped to his knees.
