Chapter 11: The Director
"Daddy!"
Harper's scream echoed through the mansion.
Dominic collapsed to one knee as blood spread across the polished wooden floor. The shard of glass had cut deep into his back, but Marcus knew immediately it wasn't the sniper's bullet that had hit him.
"He's losing blood," the estate physician shouted.
"Medical team, now!"
Within seconds, Dominic was carried into the estate's emergency medical suite.
Harper refused to let go of his hand.
Even as the doctors surrounded the bed, she stood beside him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Please don't die."
Dominic forced a weak smile.
"I'm harder to kill than that."
Harper tried to smile back.
It didn't last.
Outside the room, Marcus confronted Isabella.
"You said the Director is coming."
She nodded.
"He doesn't send soldiers anymore."
"He comes himself."
Marcus folded his arms.
"Who is he?"
For several long seconds, Isabella said nothing.
Then she answered.
"I've never seen his face."
Marcus frowned.
"What?"
"No one has."
"He has led Project Falcon for more than thirty years."
"Everyone who meets him..."
She paused.
"...either joins him..."
"...or disappears."
Daniel approached with another report.
"The sniper escaped."
Marcus wasn't surprised.
"Anything else?"
Daniel nodded.
"We recovered the bullet."
He handed it over.
Marcus examined the casing.
His eyes narrowed.
"No serial number."
The estate's weapons expert spoke quietly.
"This wasn't military."
"It was custom-made."
Then he noticed something engraved around the base.
A tiny silver falcon.
Inside the medical room...
The doctors finally removed the glass fragment.
"It missed the spine."
"It missed the lungs."
"He'll recover."
Dominic barely reacted.
His attention remained on Isabella.
"Finish what you were saying."
She looked toward Harper, who had finally fallen asleep in a chair beside the bed.
"The children were never the goal."
Dominic repeated.
"So what were they?"
Isabella took a deep breath.
"Memory."
He frowned.
"What?"
"Project Falcon never wanted children."
"They wanted..."
"...perfect memories."
Marcus entered just in time to hear the sentence.
"What does that mean?"
Isabella looked at all of them.
"They believed memories could be transferred."
Silence.
Daniel blinked.
"Transferred?"
"They spent decades experimenting."
"Children survived procedures adults couldn't."
"They searched for someone capable of carrying memories that weren't their own."
Dominic stared at her.
"That's impossible."
"So we believed."
She looked at Harper.
"Until she survived."
The room became silent again.
Isabella continued.
"H-17 wasn't chosen because of her blood."
"She was chosen because her brain survived the transfer."
Marcus shook his head.
"What memories?"
Isabella closed her eyes.
"The Director's."
Dominic felt the air leave his lungs.
"You mean..."
She nodded.
"They copied parts of his mind."
"They hid them inside Harper."
Daniel whispered,
"My God..."
Dominic stood despite the pain.
"So that's why they keep chasing her."
"They don't want to kill her."
Isabella looked at him sadly.
"They didn't."
"But now..."
"They believe the memories are awakening."
Marcus frowned.
"Awakening?"
Isabella pointed toward Harper.
"Has she ever said things she couldn't possibly know?"
Dominic froze.
He remembered.
Harper finding the hidden cellar.
Knowing about secret rooms.
Recognizing voices she'd never heard.
Drawing places she'd never visited.
At the time...
Everyone thought it was luck.
Or imagination.
Now...
Nothing looked accidental.
Just then...
Harper suddenly spoke in her sleep.
Softly.
Almost whispering.
"Sector Seven..."
Everyone turned toward her.
She continued sleeping.
"...vault access..."
"...omega code..."
Marcus slowly looked at Isabella.
"She's dreaming."
Isabella's face had gone pale.
"No."
"She's remembering."
Daniel immediately recorded every word.
Harper continued mumbling.
"Bridge... Geneva..."
"...black archive..."
"...don't trust..."
She suddenly stopped.
The room waited.
Then, in a calm adult voice completely unlike her own...
She spoke one final sentence.
"The Director has already entered the house."
Her eyes opened.
Bright.
Alert.
She looked around in confusion.
"Daddy?"
Dominic rushed to her.
"I'm here."
Harper rubbed her eyes.
"Why are you all looking at me?"
"You were talking."
"I was?"
She genuinely had no memory.
Marcus's radio exploded with static.
"Sir!"
He grabbed it.
"What happened?"
The security chief sounded terrified.
"We have a problem."
Marcus's expression darkened.
"What?"
"Nobody entered the estate."
"I know."
"No..."
The guard whispered.
"...that's the problem."
Marcus frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
"We checked every camera."
"Every gate."
"Every tunnel."
"No one came in."
Marcus looked slowly toward Isabella.
Then toward Harper.
Then back to the radio.
The guard finished the sentence that made every person in the room go cold.
"We counted everyone inside the mansion..."
"...and there is one person too many."
Silence.
Marcus whispered,
"Identify them."
The reply came almost immediately.
"We can't."
"Because according to the staff records..."
"...they've been working here for eleven years."
Daniel stared at the roster.
Every employee had a file.
A photograph.
Payroll records.
Background checks.
Everything appeared legitimate.
Except...
One employee's file contained no fingerprints.
No birth certificate.
No tax records.
No school history.
Only a photograph.
Dominic looked at it.
His blood ran cold.
He had seen the face every single day.
Sometimes twice.
He knew the man by name.
Trusted him without question.
The man who had quietly served tea in meetings...
Opened doors...
Delivered mail...
And never once attracted suspicion.
The estate's elderly butler.
Edwin.
At that exact moment...
Somewhere inside the mansion...
The old butler gently removed his white gloves.
Beneath them...
Tattooed into the skin of his wrist...
Was a silver falcon.
And beneath the falcon...
One word.
May you like
DIRECTOR.
End of Chapter 11
