CHAPTER 12 PROTOCOL FOUR
The blast doors rumbled through the abandoned pediatric wing like the growl of a waking giant.
BOOM... BOOM... BOOM...
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Red emergency lights, silent for more than two decades, pulsed to life, bathing the corridor in an eerie crimson glow.
Marcus instinctively folded the letter and shoved it into his jacket.
Samuel grabbed his wrist.
"Not this way."
Marcus looked toward the main hallway where the heavy footsteps were growing louder.
"Who are they?"
Samuel didn't slow down.
"The cleanup team."
"What cleanup team?"
"The people who make sure Genesis leaves no witnesses."
They hurried through a narrow service passage hidden behind an old medicine cabinet.
The wall swung shut behind them just as the first blast door slammed closed.
CLANG!
The sound echoed through the underground level.
Upstairs...
Richard watched every monitor inside the hospital control room suddenly flicker.
One by one...
Offline.
Offline.
Offline.
Except for one.
A camera feed that had never appeared before.
Its label read:
SUBLEVEL G
The screen showed a long underground corridor.
Empty.
Covered in dust.
Then...
Black-clad soldiers entered the frame.
Eight of them.
Perfect formation.
Military precision.
No insignias.
No names.
No faces.
Only matte-black helmets.
Each carried suppressed rifles.
Richard zoomed in.
The man leading the team wore a silver armband marked with a single symbol.
A phoenix rising from flames.
Dr. Bennett's face turned white.
"No..."
Richard looked at him.
"You know that symbol?"
Bennett nodded slowly.
"We thought they were all dead."
"Who?"
Bennett whispered,
"The Phoenix Division."
Deep underground...
Marcus and Samuel reached an old records room.
Thousands of paper files covered metal shelves.
Most had rotted away.
Others had been burned.
Samuel hurried toward one cabinet.
"They'll search for you first."
Marcus frowned.
"Why me?"
Samuel looked directly into his eyes.
"Because you survived."
"I don't understand."
Samuel pulled open the bottom drawer.
Inside lay twelve thick folders.
Each labeled only with a number.
...
Samuel handed Marcus the last file.
"Everything they ever did to you..."
"...is inside."
Marcus slowly opened it.
The first page showed a tiny footprint.
Birth weight.
Blood type.
Heart rate.
Nothing unusual.
He turned the page.
Then another.
Then...
His breathing stopped.
A medical report.
Age:
Three years old.
Procedure:
Memory Suppression Trial.
Status:
Successful.
Marcus stared in disbelief.
"They erased my memories..."
Samuel nodded.
"Repeatedly."
Marcus continued reading.
Every six months.
Another procedure.
Another memory wipe.
Another experiment.
His childhood hadn't been forgotten.
It had been taken.
Elsewhere...
The Phoenix Division moved through the abandoned level with terrifying efficiency.
One soldier examined a dusty footprint.
"Fresh."
The commander nodded.
"They're alive."
Another operative activated a thermal scanner.
Two heat signatures.
Less than eighty meters away.
The commander raised one hand.
"No gunfire."
"The Director wants Number Twelve alive."
Meanwhile...
Richard was already moving.
"I know where Marcus is."
Dr. Bennett grabbed his arm.
"You can't reach him."
Richard pointed toward the old blueprints.
"There was an emergency maintenance tunnel."
Bennett hesitated.
"It was sealed."
Richard smiled grimly.
"I've opened worse."
Without another word, he sprinted toward the basement.
Back underground...
Marcus reached the final page of his file.
Attached with a rusted paperclip...
A color photograph.
Twelve children standing together.
Smiling.
No fear.
No uniforms.
Just ordinary children.
Marcus immediately recognized Khloe.
She couldn't have been older than seven.
She stood beside him.
Holding his hand.
Marcus whispered,
"She was there..."
Samuel smiled sadly.
"She protected you."
Marcus looked up.
"What?"
"Every time they came for another experiment..."
"...she volunteered to go first."
Marcus's eyes widened.
"No."
Samuel nodded.
"She thought if they hurt her..."
"...they'd leave you alone."
Marcus couldn't speak.
Every accusation.
Every doubt.
Every moment he questioned Khloe's loyalty...
Collapsed in an instant.
She hadn't hidden the truth because she didn't trust him.
She had hidden it...
To keep him alive.
Suddenly...
A sharp metallic click echoed through the room.
Samuel's face changed.
"They found us."
A red laser sight appeared on the opposite wall.
Then another.
Then five more.
The wooden door exploded inward.
Phoenix operatives flooded the records room.
The commander stepped inside calmly.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Silver phoenix insignia gleaming under the emergency lights.
He removed his helmet.
Marcus froze.
The man's face looked strangely familiar.
Not identical.
But enough to send a chill through him.
The commander smiled.
"So..."
"Number Twelve."
"It's been a long time."
Marcus raised the old fire axe he'd grabbed from the hallway.
"Who are you?"
The commander's smile widened.
"My name doesn't matter."
Marcus didn't lower the axe.
The man tilted his head.
"But yours does."
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out an old family photograph.
Marcus.
Edward Thorne.
Margaret Thorne.
A perfect family portrait.
The commander tossed it onto the floor.
Then crushed it beneath his boot.
"They lied to you."
Marcus's grip tightened.
"You murdered them."
The commander's expression didn't change.
"No."
"I recruited them."
Silence.
Marcus felt the words hit harder than any punch.
"What?"
"They weren't your rescuers."
"They were your handlers."
Samuel shouted,
"Don't listen to him!"
The commander laughed softly.
"Ask yourself one question."
"If Edward wanted to save you..."
"...why did he keep calling you Marcus?"
Marcus frowned.
"So?"
The commander took one slow step forward.
"Because..."
"...that was never your real name."
The room fell deathly silent.
Then the commander spoke the sentence that left Marcus unable to breathe.
"Your real name..."
"...is Lucian Genesis."
Samuel lunged forward.
"HE'S LYING!"
Gunfire erupted.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Samuel shoved Marcus behind a steel filing cabinet just as bullets ripped through the room.
The old man cried out.
A dark stain spread across his chest.
He collapsed to the floor.
Still conscious.
Barely.
Marcus crawled toward him.
"Samuel!"
The old man grabbed Marcus's collar with surprising strength.
Blood filled his mouth as he whispered one final sentence.
"Don't believe..."
"...the letter."
Then his hand went limp.
Across the room, the commander smiled.
"Now..."
May you like
"...shall we discuss who your real parents were?"
END OF CHAPTER 12
