Chapter 11 - THE NAME EVERYONE WAS AFRAID TO HEAR
Nathaniel Cross had died twelve years earlier.
At least officially.
Three-term United States senator.
Defense Committee chairman.
National security reform advocate.
Recipient of military honors.
Funeral televised nationwide.
Ethan remembered watching part of it from his living room while Christine held newborn Jake.
He had felt nothing.
Now he remembered a basement in Afghanistan.
A courier dying in his arms.
A ledger.
A photograph.
Cross standing beside insurgent financiers.
Cross authorizing payments.
Cross’s private security companies receiving contracts after attacks he secretly helped fund.
Frank stopped smiling.
“That memory was supposed to stay buried.”
Ethan moved toward him.
“Is Cross alive?”
Frank backed away.
“Wrong question.”
“What’s the right one?”
“Does Cross need to be alive?”
Ethan understood.
A network built around a name could outlive the man.
Or the death could be fake.
Mason’s voice arrived through the earpiece.
“Clinic secure. Jake is there. Audio was prerecorded.”
Ethan exhaled.
Frank saw the relief.
“That child makes you weak.”
“No.”
Ethan looked at him.
“He makes me careful.”
Frank reached behind his back.
Ethan moved first.
Two seconds later Frank was on the floor with a broken wrist and Ethan’s knee against his chest.
Frank laughed despite the pain.
“There he is.”
Ethan leaned closer.
“You wanted the old me?”
“Yes.”
“Bad decision.”
He searched Frank.
Weapon.
Phone.
Plastic key card.
A photograph.
Ethan pulled it free.
Jake.
Taken that morning.
Sleeping in Ethan’s house before the attack.
Ethan’s rage rose again.
Frank whispered, “We’ve always been close.”
Ethan tightened pressure.
Frank groaned.
“You’re going to tell me where Brian and Scott are.”
“No.”
“You’re going to tell me where Caleb is.”
“No.”
“You’re going to tell me who still controls JANUS.”
Frank smiled.
“No.”
Ethan stood.
Frank blinked.
“Giving up?”
“No.”
Ethan removed his phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Frank laughed.
“That’s your big move?”
“You expect violence.”
“I know violence.”
“You taught me that.”
Frank’s smile weakened.
“So I’ll use something you hate more.”
“What?”
“Exposure.”
Frank’s face changed.
Ethan continued.
“Every file beneath your house. Every recording. Every child. Every account. Every politician.”
“You’ll destroy national security operations.”
“Good.”
“You’ll get innocent people killed.”
“You used that sentence twenty-two years ago.”
Frank stared.
Ethan remembered now.
Fragments but enough.
Frank standing in the interrogation room.
If this gets out, good men die.
Ethan had believed him once.
Never again.
Police tactical teams entered minutes later.
Frank was taken into custody.
Mason tried to stop federal agents from assuming control.
It became a shouting match in the rain.
Ethan watched Frank being loaded into an armored vehicle.
Frank smiled through the window.
Too calm.
Ethan approached.
“What?”
Frank leaned toward the glass.
“You still think today was about the key.”
Ethan said nothing.
Frank continued.
“Jake stole exactly what we needed him to steal.”
Ethan’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
“The brass key.”
“What about it?”
“It brought you into Site Twelve.”
“Yes.”
“It brought Vale out of hiding.”
Ethan looked back at Adrian Vale standing near the entrance.
Frank smiled.
“And it brought Mason back into the open.”
Ethan understood.
“You wanted us together.”
“All three.”
“Why?”
Frank’s smile became almost gentle.
“Because none of you remembers what happened the night Site Twelve burned.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“What happened?”
Frank whispered through the glass.
May you like
“Christine does.”
Then the vehicle door closed.
