Chapter 6 - Julian’s Family Was Already Inside the Secret
Julian’s father had died twelve years earlier.
Official cause: heart attack.
Theodore Vance had served two terms in the United States Senate and built a reputation as a reform-minded conservative who publicly attacked unethical pharmaceutical testing.
Julian had admired him.
Arthur apparently had known another version.
Elias was certain.
“Theodore came to the facility. He argued with Arthur.”
“What about?”
“He wanted the program shut down.”
Julian looked again at the childhood recording.
Arthur’s words.
The government won’t approve human trials.
Perhaps Theodore had discovered what Arthur was doing.
Perhaps the gunshot Clara remembered had not killed an unknown man.
Perhaps it had killed Julian’s father.
But Theodore Vance had supposedly died nine years after the research center fire.
The timeline made no sense.
Rachel investigated.
What she found was stranger.
Theodore had survived July 19, 2003.
Hospital records placed him at a private clinic that night with a gunshot wound to the abdomen.
The clinic belonged to Vancewood Biomedical.
His identity had been concealed.
Julian felt physically ill.
His father had been shot by Arthur.
And had remained silent.
Why?
The answer arrived through an envelope.
No return address.
Inside was a handwritten letter from Theodore Vance.
Dated two weeks before his death.
JULIAN,
IF YOU EVER BECOME CONNECTED TO THE VANCEWOOD FAMILY, FIND VAULT THREE BEFORE ARTHUR DOES.
DO NOT TRUST HARRISON COLE.
DO NOT TRUST THE FEDERAL RECORD.
AND IF CLARA IS ALIVE, TELL HER I AM SORRY.
Julian read the final line repeatedly.
Clara sat beside him.
“Your father knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knew I survived.”
“Yes.”
Julian looked devastated.
Clara took his hand.
For months their engagement had been a strategic arrangement.
Somewhere between nightmares, secret rooms and terrible discoveries, that had changed.
Neither had named what replaced it.
There was no time.
The letter contained a second page.
A drawing of a key.
The same engraving.
0719-VW-3.
Vault Three.
They now understood what the brass key opened.
The problem was finding the vault.
Theodore’s old Senate records contained references to a private depository company called Dominion Heritage Trust.
Rachel discovered it had operated secure underground vaults for political families and multinational corporations.
The company no longer existed.
Its Manhattan building had been sold.
The vaults supposedly had been emptied.
Supposedly.
Julian purchased architectural plans.
Beneath the renovated office tower remained three sealed rooms not shown on modern plans.
They entered at midnight using a construction access permit Julian obtained through one of his subsidiaries.
Vault Three was still there.
The antique brass key turned.
Inside were shelves of evidence.
Medical files.
Financial ledgers.
Videotapes.
Photographs.
And a sealed metal case labeled:
PROJECT ORPHEUS.
Clara opened it.
Inside was a list of subjects.
Thirty-six children.
Beside each name was a status.
DECEASED.
RELOCATED.
UNSTABLE.
ACTIVE.
Clara found herself.
CLARA VANCEWOOD, C-7. ACTIVE.
Nora.
NORA VANCEWOOD, N-2. TRANSFERRED.
Elias.
ELIJAH MERCER, E-4. UNACCOUNTED.
At the bottom was a separate section.
SECOND GENERATION.
Three names had been blacked out.
One had not.
JULIAN THEODORE VANCE.
Julian stared at his own name.
“What the hell?”
Clara turned toward him.
Before either could process it, the vault door slammed shut.
The lights went red.
A speaker activated.
Arthur’s voice filled the room.
“I had hoped your father’s paranoia died with him, Julian.”
Julian looked at the security camera above them.
Arthur continued.
“But Theodore always did leave unfinished work.”
Clara stepped toward the camera.
“Where is Nora?”
Arthur ignored her.
“Julian, you have approximately nine minutes of oxygen.”
A mechanical hiss began.
Clara’s eyes widened.
Arthur laughed softly.
“Give me the Orpheus case, and perhaps I open the door.”
Julian looked at Clara.
Then at the case.
“Perhaps?”
Arthur replied, “You’re learning.”
May you like
Julian picked up the case.
And smashed the security camera.
