Chapter 10 - The Freight Tunnel)
The entrance to the Riverpoint freight tunnel had been hidden behind a welded steel panel.
Police cut through it shortly after midnight.
The passage beyond smelled of rust and wet concrete.
Mark was ordered to remain outside.
He ignored the order for approximately thirty seconds before Moreno physically blocked him.
"You are not entering."
"My daughter is in there."
"Your stepdaughter."
"She's still my daughter."
Moreno studied him.
Then pointed toward the command vehicle.
"Stay there."
Mark waited.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Then radio traffic changed.
Movement.
Two suspects.
A room.
One victim.
Mark stopped breathing.
An ambulance moved forward.
Minutes later tactical officers emerged.
Between them walked Samantha.
Alive.
She wore a borrowed jacket.
Her face was pale.
Her hands shook.
When she saw Mark, she stopped.
Neither moved.
Then Samantha began crying.
"I'm sorry."
Mark approached.
She flinched.
That hurt him more than he expected.
He did not hug her immediately.
He crouched until they were eye level.
"Did they hurt you?"
She shook her head.
"Not much."
"Can you walk?"
"Yes."
"Then let's get you checked."
She grabbed his sleeve.
"Don't let Mom come near me."
Mark looked at Moreno.
Moreno nodded.
"She won't."
At the hospital Samantha gave a statement.
Victor had not abducted her.
Two men she had never seen took her.
One called the other Mercer.
They demanded the hard drive.
They asked repeatedly about Caitlyn.
"What about Caitlyn?" Moreno asked.
"They wanted to know if she remembered Grandpa."
Mark frowned.
"She was three when he died."
Samantha nodded.
"I told them that."
"What exactly did they ask?"
"Whether Grandpa gave her a song."
Caitlyn was brought into a separate child-friendly interview the next morning.
Moreno asked carefully.
"Did Grandpa Thomas ever sing to you?"
Caitlyn smiled.
"All the time."
"What song?"
"The Bennett train song."
Mark stared.
"What?"
Caitlyn looked surprised.
"You don't know it?"
"No."
"Grandpa said it was only for little Bennetts."
She sang softly.
Not a real song.
A sequence of numbers disguised as train sounds and station names.
Mark and Daniel exchanged a look.
A code.
Thomas had hidden part of the archive access key inside a children's rhyme.
Caitlyn had memorized it without knowing its purpose.
Suddenly her beneficiary status was not merely legal.
Thomas had made her part of the security system.
Mark felt furious with his dead father.
He had turned a child into a key.
Maybe he thought it was clever.
Maybe he thought nobody would ever discover it.
He had been wrong.
Moreno contacted federal authorities.
This time she did not use ordinary channels.
She found an internal reference to Elena Cross.
Retired.
Former inspector with a federal infrastructure security office.
Last known address in Vermont.
No active phone.
Mark wanted to go immediately.
Moreno objected.
"If Thomas's recording is accurate, you don't know who you can trust."
"Exactly."
"Which is why you stay here."
Mark looked at Caitlyn.
Samantha sat nearby wrapped in a hospital blanket.
Two girls.
Both used by adults.
Both endangered because of a secret that began before either was born.
"I'm taking them somewhere safe."
Moreno nodded.
"We can arrange protective housing."
"No."
"Mark."
"If somebody photographed Caitlyn through Daniel's window while a patrol car was outside, your safe house isn't safe."
Moreno hated that he had a point.
Daniel suggested their father's old cabin.
It sat deep in the Adirondacks under a holding company not connected to the family name.
No internet.
No neighbors.
Mark agreed.
Margaret remained in custody.
Victor remained jailed.
Samantha was released to Mark temporarily after child services determined Margaret could not take custody.
That evening they left Bennett Street.
Caitlyn sat beside Samantha in the back seat.
For the first hour nobody spoke.
Then Caitlyn asked, "Why did you smile?"
Samantha stared out the window.
Mark almost interrupted.
He decided not to.
Samantha whispered, "Because I wanted Mom to like me."
Caitlyn waited.
Samantha continued.
"She kept saying you were Dad's favorite."
"I'm seven."
"I know."
"That's stupid."
Samantha laughed through tears.
"Yeah."
Caitlyn looked down at her hands.
"You called me a bad word."
"I know."
"You watched me cry."
"I know."
"You didn't open the door."
Samantha began crying again.
"I know."
Caitlyn turned away.
She did not forgive her.
Not then.
But she moved two inches closer on the seat.
At the cabin Mark found something waiting on the porch.
A package.
No postage.
No label.
Inside was an old cassette tape.
And a note.
Elena Cross is already dead.
Mark stared at the words.
Daniel looked over his shoulder.
Then Caitlyn pointed toward the cassette.
"Daddy."
May you like
"What?"
"That's Grandpa's handwriting."
