CHAPTER 5: THE TARGET WAS NEVER EMILY
The gunshot echoed through the tunnel.
Then silence.
Complete darkness.
“Emily!”
“I’m here!”
I reached backward and grabbed her arm.
“Stay behind me.”
Another gunshot.
This time closer.
Daniel shouted:
“DOWN!”
We dropped.
A bullet tore through the metal railing above my head.
Someone was shooting from the darkness.
I raised my weapon toward the muzzle flash.
One shot.
Then another.
The tunnel erupted into chaos.
Ethan screamed.
“Michael!”
No answer.
I crawled toward the wall, pulling Emily with me.
“Stay low.”
“I can't see!”
“Neither can they.”
I listened.
Footsteps.
Three people.
Maybe four.
Moving quickly.
Then a voice came from the darkness.
“Colonel Hart!”
I recognized it.
Richard Cole.
The Prescott lawyer.
“Put the weapon down!”
I almost laughed.
“Come take it.”
A gunshot answered.
The concrete beside my head exploded.
Daniel fired back.
“Move!”
We ran.
I grabbed Emily's hand and pulled her down a side passage.
Ethan followed.
Daniel came last.
We reached a steel door.
Locked.
Daniel pulled a key from his pocket.
“Where does this lead?”
“Old maintenance station.”
“Open it.”
He did.
We rushed inside.
Daniel slammed the door.
Gunfire continued outside.
He locked three separate bolts.
Then looked at me.
“We have maybe two minutes.”
“Then start explaining.”
Daniel nodded.
“The tunnel network connects to several abandoned buildings.”
“Who controls it?”
“Prescott Holdings.”
“Of course.”
Ethan leaned against the wall.
“They've controlled half this district for years.”
I turned toward him.
“Why?”
“Money laundering.”
Daniel interrupted.
“Not just money.”
He looked at the flash drive in my hand.
“Information.”
I frowned.
“You have the drive?”
“No.”
He pointed toward the door.
“Michael took it.”
I remembered the figure in the tunnel.
He had held up the drive.
Then disappeared.
“Where did he go?”
“Probably somewhere underground.”
“Why didn't he stay?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because he wanted them to follow him.”
I stared.
“He used himself as bait.”
“Yes.”
“For us?”
Daniel shook his head.
“For you.”
I didn't like that answer.
“Why me?”
Ethan spoke quietly.
“Because Michael believes you're the only person who can expose them.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because you were there.”
“Where?”
“Black Lantern.”
I felt the old memory surface.
A desert night.
A convoy.
A classified briefing.
A man standing across from me.
Charles Prescott.
I remembered his voice now.
If anything happens to my son, protect him.
I had thought he meant Ethan.
But he had never said Ethan.
He had said:
My son.
I closed my eyes.
“Charles knew Michael would survive.”
Daniel nodded.
“He knew they would come after him.”
“Who?”
“The people who wanted Black Lantern buried.”
“Who were they?”
Nobody answered.
I looked at Ethan.
“You know.”
He shook his head.
“I only know what my father told me.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That one day, someone wearing the uniform would come.”
My chest tightened.
“He meant me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ethan looked at Emily.
“Because your daughter was part of his plan.”
Emily stared at him.
“What?”
Ethan stepped closer.
“Your mother wasn't the only person Charles trusted.”
Emily's face changed.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your mother married your father because of Black Lantern.”
I froze.
“What?”
Ethan continued.
“Your father wasn't just a civilian.”
Emily shook her head.
“My dad was an engineer.”
“That was his cover.”
I stared at Ethan.
“Explain.”
“Your father worked with Charles Prescott.”
Emily began crying.
“No.”
“I didn't know until recently.”
“Stop lying.”
“Emily…”
“You're lying!”
She backed away.
Daniel looked at me.
“She's not.”
I felt something inside me crack.
My husband.
My daughter's father.
The man I had spent years believing was completely separate from my military life.
A secret.
Another secret.
How many secrets had been buried around my family?
I looked at Ethan.
“What was her father doing?”
“He was the technical lead on Black Lantern.”
I couldn't breathe.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“It's true.”
Emily stared at me.
“You knew?”
“No.”
My voice broke.
“I didn't.”
She looked away.
I couldn't blame her.
Then the steel door shook.
Someone had reached it.
Daniel raised his weapon.
“We're out of time.”
A voice came through the door.
Richard Cole.
“Colonel Hart.”
I said nothing.
“You're surrounded.”
Daniel whispered:
“There's another exit.”
“Where?”
“Below us.”
He opened a floor panel.
A ladder descended into darkness.
“Go.”
Emily climbed down.
I followed.
Ethan came next.
Daniel stayed behind.
“What are you doing?”
“Buying you time.”
“Daniel—”
“Go!”
He closed the panel.
We descended.
Seconds later, gunfire erupted above.
Emily covered her ears.
I grabbed her.
“Don't listen.”
But then we heard Daniel scream.
Ethan looked at me.
“We have to keep moving.”
I nodded.
We reached the bottom.
A narrow underground corridor stretched ahead.
There were dozens of old storage rooms.
Some had rusted locks.
Others were open.
We moved quietly.
Then Emily stopped.
“Mom.”
“What?”
She pointed.
A door had her name written on it.
EMILY HART.
I stared.
My daughter's maiden name.
Not Prescott.
Hart.
“How long has that been there?” Ethan whispered.
“I don't know.”
I opened the door.
Inside was a small room.
A desk.
A chair.
And dozens of photographs.
Emily as a child.
Emily in high school.
Emily at college.
Emily on her wedding day.
Emily at the Prescott estate.
My stomach turned.
Someone had been watching her for years.
Not months.
Years.
I picked up a photograph.
Emily was seventeen.
Standing outside her school.
Behind her was a black sedan.
I recognized the license plate.
Military contractor.
My own unit had used that vehicle.
I turned to Ethan.
“Who took these?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
I found a file on the desk.
PROJECT HART.
My blood went cold.
I opened it.
The first page contained my photograph.
Then my service record.
Then my marriage.
Then Emily's birth certificate.
At the bottom was a sentence:
SUBJECT HAS NO KNOWLEDGE OF PRIMARY OPERATIONAL CONNECTION.
I turned the page.
There was another line.
DAUGHTER WILL BECOME PRIMARY LEVERAGE AT AGE 25.
Emily stared at the file.
“My age…”
She was twenty-five.
Exactly.
I looked at Ethan.
“You knew about this.”
He shook his head.
“I swear.”
“Then why did your family marry Emily to you?”
Ethan looked at the floor.
“Because they wanted her inside the family.”
“Why?”
“To find something.”
“What?”
He swallowed.
“Your memories.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Black Lantern wasn't just a military operation.”
He looked terrified.
“It was a memory operation.”
I didn't understand.
“Explain.”
Ethan lowered his voice.
“Something happened during Black Lantern that was never written down.”
“What?”
“A prisoner disappeared.”
Daniel had mentioned a missing intelligence officer.
But this was different.
“Who?”
Ethan looked at Emily.
“Your father.”
Emily went completely still.
“No.”
Ethan nodded.
“Your father didn't die naturally.”
I felt the room spin.
“What happened to him?”
“They killed him.”
“Who?”
“The same people who killed Charles Prescott.”
I stared at him.
“Charles isn't dead.”
“Exactly.”
A cold silence filled the room.
Then a sound came from behind us.
A slow clap.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
We turned.
A man stood in the doorway.
He wasn't Richard.
He wasn't Brandon.
He wasn't Daniel.
It was an older man.
Gray hair.
Expensive black coat.
Calm eyes.
Emily whispered:
“Dad?”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She stared at the man.
Tears filled her eyes.
“That's my father.”
I couldn't move.
Emily's father.
My husband.
The man I had buried three years ago.
The man whose funeral I had attended.
The man I had believed was dead.
He smiled.
“Hello, Victoria.”
My weapon rose instantly.
Emily screamed.
“Dad!”
He raised his hands.
“Please.”
My voice was barely controlled.
“You're dead.”
“I had to be.”
“Why?”
He looked at Emily.
“Because they were watching you.”
I stepped forward.
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I had no choice.”
“You let our daughter grieve.”
His eyes filled with regret.
“I did what I had to do.”
I pointed the weapon at him.
“Tell me the truth.”
He nodded.
“I'm going to.”
Then he looked at Ethan.
“And he's going to help me.”
Ethan stared at him.
“What?”
Emily's father smiled.
“Because Ethan was never working for the Prescott family.”
I looked at Ethan.
He didn't deny it.
My husband continued.
“He was working for me.”
I felt the world tilt beneath my feet.
Then he said:
“And Margaret Prescott isn't the person you need to fear.”
He looked directly at me.
“She's only the messenger.”
“Then who gives her the orders?”
He hesitated.
For the first time, fear appeared in his eyes.
“The person who ordered Black Lantern.”
“Who?”
My husband looked toward the ceiling.
Then whispered:
“Your commanding officer.”
Before I could respond, every phone in the room began ringing simultaneously.
Mine.
Emily's.
Ethan's.
Even the dead phone lying on the desk.
One message appeared on every screen.
BLACK LANTERN HAS BEEN REACTIVATED.
Then another:
PRIMARY TARGET: COLONEL VICTORIA HART.
And beneath it:
SECONDARY TARGET: EVERYONE SHE LOVES.
My husband looked at me.
“Now you understand.”
I lowered my weapon.
“No.”
May you like
I looked at the message.
“Now I know where the war begins.”
