Chapter 14 - The TrapWe returned to the courthouse before dawn.
Not through the front.
Through the underground tunnels Dad had discovered decades earlier.
The final account was beneath the oldest courtroom.
Dad used the key Linda had given me.
A metal panel opened.
Inside was a computer terminal.
No internet.
No network.
One screen.
One password prompt.
Dad looked at me.
“What is it?”
I remembered my mother's letter.
Trust no one.
Then the photograph.
My mother standing beside me when I was five.
A number was written on the bottom.
I entered it.
The screen turned green.
Files appeared.
Bank accounts.
Government contracts.
Bribes.
Names.
Victor's name.
Gary's.
Daniel's.
And one more.
Linda.
I stared.
“She was involved.”
Dad nodded.
“She helped them.”
But then we opened the final folder.
WITNESS PROTECTION
Inside were payments made to one person.
My mother.
For twelve years.
I whispered:
“They paid her.”
“No,” Dad said.
“She wasn't being paid.”
He looked closer.
“She was being tracked.”
Then another file opened.
A surveillance photograph.
My mother.
At a coffee shop.
Two years ago.
Then another.
Last year.
Then one from six months ago.
She had been watching me.
Protecting me.
And hiding from Victor.
I nearly cried.
Then the computer displayed a live feed.
Someone had accessed the system.
We saw Victor's face on the screen.
He smiled.
“Congratulations.”
My blood ran cold.
The courthouse doors above us slammed open.
Victor had arrived.
Dad stared at the screen.
“How?”
The answer appeared in a new message.
Because Ben gave me the access code.
I turned.
Ben was standing several feet away.
He looked horrified.
“I didn't.”
The screen changed.
He doesn't know he did.
A recording played.
Ben's voice.
From months earlier.
Giving someone the code.
I looked at him.
“You gave it to them.”
“I don't remember.”
Victor's voice came through the speakers.
“Because we made sure you wouldn't.”
Ben staggered backward.
Dad grabbed him.
“What did they do to you?”
Ben looked terrified.
“I don't know.”
Victor continued:
“Your husband was never our greatest asset.”
A pause.
“He was our test.”
I stared at Ben.
“What test?”
The screen displayed a file.
SUBJECT BETA: BEN WHITMAN.
And under it:
Memory conditioning successful.
I stopped breathing.
Ben had been manipulated.
Used.
Maybe for months.
Maybe years.
Then the lights in the tunnel went red.
A siren began.
May you like
And the screen displayed one final message.
Stage Two begins now.
