Chapter 11 - THE ROOM BENEATH THE CHAPEL
The iron key opened a crypt beneath the private chapel at Hart Manor.
Amelia and Nathaniel entered after midnight.
Theodore remained under medical protection. Cassandra and Julian believed Amelia had left the country on military business.
The chapel smelled of dust and damp stone.
Behind the altar, they found a narrow door concealed beneath wooden paneling. The wingless angel symbol was carved above the lock.
The key turned with difficulty.
Stone steps descended underground.
At the bottom stood a small room containing shelves of files, old film reels, and sealed metal cases.
A desk occupied the center.
On it lay a photograph of Amelia at age seventeen.
Someone had drawn a black line through her face.
Nathaniel searched the shelves.
“These records span forty years.”
Amelia opened the nearest case.
Inside were shipping manifests bearing Hart Meridian seals and Blackwood weapons codes.
Project Orpheus.
Each shipment had been disguised as humanitarian aid.
Food.
Medical equipment.
Emergency shelters.
Beneath the false descriptions were weapons quantities and destination coordinates.
Amelia’s stomach turned.
“How many people knew?”
“Enough to keep it functioning for decades.”
Nathaniel found a ledger listing payments.
Several names were encoded.
Others were written plainly.
Victor Blackwood.
Adrian Vale.
Samuel Kane.
Helen Hart.
Amelia looked sharply at the last name.
“My mother received payments?”
Nathaniel examined the transaction codes.
“These may not be payments. The ledger includes internal accounting entries.”
Amelia found a handwritten note attached to Helen’s name.
SUBJECT REFUSED RECRUITMENT.
NEXT PHASE AUTHORIZED.
A date followed.
The date of her mother’s plane crash.
Nathaniel touched her shoulder.
Amelia stepped away.
“I am fine.”
“You do not have to be.”
“Not now.”
They continued searching.
In a locked drawer, Amelia found an audio recorder.
The battery was dead, but Nathaniel connected it to a portable power unit.
A man’s voice filled the chamber.
Theodore’s voice.
If this recording is found, Project Orpheus has likely returned.
Amelia moved closer.
I spent twenty years believing Victor Blackwood controlled it. I was wrong. Victor was an operator, not the architect.
Papers rustled in the recording.
The architect knows every weakness in the Hart and Blackwood families because he helped create them.
My brother Sebastian survived the institution. He returned under another name.
Nathaniel and Amelia looked at each other.
Theodore continued.
I have not confirmed which name. There are three possibilities.
The recording stopped.
“That cannot be all,” Amelia said.
Nathaniel examined the device.
“The file is corrupted.”
He connected it to a diagnostic unit.
Three encrypted folders appeared.
Before he could open them, the chapel door slammed above.
Footsteps crossed the floor.
Amelia turned off the lights.
Voices descended the stairs.
Cassandra entered first, carrying a flashlight.
Julian followed.
A third man came behind them.
Victor Blackwood.
He was older than Nathaniel by nearly thirty years, but the resemblance in their posture was unmistakable.
Victor looked around the chamber.
“My brother was always too sentimental,” he said.
Nathaniel stepped from the shadows.
“And you were always too predictable.”
Victor smiled.
“Nathaniel.”
Cassandra aimed a gun at Amelia.
Julian looked horrified.
“Cassandra, put that down.”
“Be quiet.”
“You said we were only retrieving documents.”
“You believed many things.”
Julian’s face changed as he understood.
Amelia looked at him.
“She used you.”
Cassandra’s grip tightened.
“You do not get to pity him.”
Victor moved toward the desk.
“Give me the recorder.”
Nathaniel stood in his path.
“Did you kill Helen Hart?”
“No.”
“Adrian Vale?”
“No.”
“Samuel Kane?”
“No.”
Victor sounded almost bored.
“Then who did?”
“The same person who will kill all of us if that recording leaves this room.”
Cassandra looked at him sharply.
“You said the architect was dead.”
“I said you should hope he was.”
Amelia studied Victor.
“You are afraid of Sebastian.”
Victor’s smile vanished.
“That child died a long time ago.”
“Theodore disagrees.”
“Theodore has spent his life mistaking guilt for insight.”
“Who is Sebastian now?”
Victor looked at the wingless angel carved into the wall.
“Someone your father invited back into his life.”
A gunshot exploded.
Cassandra cried out.
Her weapon fell.
Blood spread across her forearm.
The shot had come from the staircase.
A masked figure stood above them.
Victor’s face filled with terror.
“Run.”
The lights went out.
Gunfire tore through the chamber.
Amelia dropped behind the desk. Nathaniel pulled Cassandra into cover while Julian crawled toward the wall.
Victor fired toward the stairs.
The masked attacker moved with military precision.
Amelia listened to the rhythm of the shots.
Three controlled rounds.
Pause.
Two rounds.
The pattern was familiar.
It belonged to an advanced tactical training system used only by select Blackwood contractors.
Nathaniel heard it too.
He looked at her across the darkness.
The attacker threw an incendiary device into the records.
Flames erupted.
Smoke filled the chamber.
Victor shouted, “The tunnel.”
He kicked open a floor panel revealing a narrow passage.
They entered as fire consumed the shelves.
Amelia carried the recorder beneath her jacket.
Behind them, the masked figure did not follow.
The attacker had not come to kill them.
He had come to destroy the evidence.
As they emerged near the cemetery wall, Cassandra collapsed from blood loss.
Julian knelt beside her.
Victor seized Nathaniel’s arm.
“You need to listen to me,” he said. “The man running Orpheus has access to Blackwood command systems.”
“Who?”
Victor looked at Amelia.
“He attended your wedding.”
Amelia went still.
Only two witnesses had attended.
May you like
Nathaniel’s attorney.
And the retired military chaplain.
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