Chapter 8 - BLACKWATERNo one spoke for the first ten miles.
Emma sat beside Mason in the back of Hale’s SUV.
The promise hung between them.
Kill Owen before Cross could take him alive.
Eventually Emma turned.
“Would you have done it?”
Mason looked through the window.
“Yes.”
She hated the answer.
She respected him for not lying.
“Why?”
“Cross had interrogation methods.”
“That’s vague.”
“It needs to be.”
Emma looked away.
Mason continued quietly.
“Owen was carrying names. Families. Informants. People who would die if he talked.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Everyone talks eventually.”
Emma looked at him.
“Did he believe that?”
“He was a medic. He knew exactly how much pain a human body could survive.”
Mason’s voice grew quieter.
“He asked me not to let him reach that point.”
Emma’s anger softened into horror.
“Did you make him the same promise?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He refused.”
Despite herself, Emma smiled faintly.
“That sounds like him.”
“Yes.”
The road narrowed through forest.
Hale drove.
Marcus sat beside him.
“Blackwater should be five miles ahead,” Hale said.
Mason checked his pistol.
Emma watched.
“You’re bleeding again.”
“I’m aware.”
“Good. I was worried you’d lost sensation.”
Mason glanced at her.
“You always this charming?”
“Only with difficult patients.”
They reached a locked chain gate.
Hale entered a code.
Beyond it stood an abandoned communications station.
Rusting towers.
Broken windows.
No visible guards.
Mason said, “Too quiet.”
Hale nodded.
“They know we’re coming.”
Emma looked at him.
“Why are we doing exactly what they expect?”
“Because Cross has Owen.”
“Great strategy.”
Mason replied, “Sometimes the trap is the only door.”
They entered through a concrete utility building.
Below the floor, Hale opened a hidden elevator.
Mason stared.
“Elevator.”
Emma almost laughed.
“I can hold your hand.”
He gave her a look.
Marcus muttered, “Please do. I want to see this.”
Mason entered.
Emma stood beside him.
She did not take his hand.
But their shoulders touched.
The elevator descended.
Level one.
Two.
Three.
Then stopped between floors.
Lights went out.
Mason’s breathing changed.
Emma immediately found his wrist.
“Hey.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Darkness surrounded them.
She felt his pulse racing.
“Mason.”
He turned toward her voice.
“You’re in an elevator.”
“I know.”
“You’re with me.”
He said nothing.
“Tell me five things you can feel.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
His breath came faster.
“Floor.”
“Good.”
“My weapon.”
“Good.”
“Your hand.”
Emma realized she was holding him.
“Three.”
“My ribs.”
“That one’s obvious.”
“Marcus breathing too loudly.”
Marcus said, “Glad I can help.”
Mason almost laughed.
The lights returned.
Emma released his hand slowly.
Mason looked at her.
“Thank you.”
The elevator doors opened.
A voice came through speakers.
“Welcome back, Chief Reed.”
Daniel Cross.
Mason’s face became stone.
They entered a long underground corridor.
No guards.
At the far end, a glass wall separated them from a medical chamber.
Owen Callahan sat inside.
Emma stopped breathing.
Eight years disappeared.
He was older.
Thin.
Gray hair.
A scar along his temple.
But it was Owen.
Her brother.
Alive.
“Emma?”
His lips formed the word through the glass.
Emma ran.
She struck both hands against the barrier.
“Owen!”
He stood.
His face broke.
“Oh God.”
Emma cried openly.
Owen placed one hand against the opposite side of the glass.
She matched it.
Eight years.
One inch of reinforced glass.
Mason approached slowly.
Owen saw him.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then Owen smiled.
“You look terrible.”
Mason’s eyes filled.
“You’re alive.”
“So are you.”
“I watched you die.”
“No. You watched a lot of fire.”
Mason laughed once.
It sounded dangerously close to crying.
Hale moved toward the control panel.
Cross’s voice returned.
“Touch it and the chamber floods.”
Hale stopped.
Emma looked around.
“Cross!”
A door opened above them.
Daniel Cross appeared on a balcony.
He wore a dark suit.
No military uniform.
His face carried the same scar from the photograph.
“Mason.”
Mason raised his pistol.
Cross smiled.
“If you shoot me, Owen dies.”
Mason lowered it slightly.
Cross looked at Emma.
“The little sister.”
Emma stared.
“You destroyed my family.”
“No. Your brother did that when he decided truth mattered more than peace.”
Owen shouted through the glass.
“Don’t listen to him!”
Cross ignored him.
“Emma, do you know why Owen stayed dead?”
“To protect us.”
“That’s part of it.”
Owen pounded the glass.
“Cross!”
“Tell her,” Cross said.
Emma looked at Owen.
“Tell me what?”
Owen’s expression changed.
Cross smiled.
“He didn’t stay away only because he feared us.”
Emma’s heart sank.
“Why else?”
Cross answered.
“Because Owen killed your father.”
Silence.
Emma stared.
“My father died in a car accident when I was twelve.”
“No.”
Owen closed his eyes.
Emma looked at him.
“Owen?”
Cross continued.
“Your father was part of Voss’s original operation.”
Emma shook her head.
“No.”
“He discovered Owen had begun investigating him.”
“Owen.”
Her brother looked at her.
“I didn’t kill Dad.”
Cross laughed.
“Technical distinction.”
Emma stepped closer to the glass.
“What happened?”
Owen’s eyes filled.
“Dad was laundering money for Voss.”
Emma felt sick.
“He found out I knew. We argued.”
“What happened?”
“He drove away drunk.”
Emma froze.
“He crashed twenty minutes later.”
Cross said, “After Owen threatened to expose him.”
Owen shouted, “I didn’t make him drive!”
Emma stared.
Her father had been kind.
Funny.
Imperfect.
Dead.
Now another memory had been ripped apart.
Cross said, “Your mother knew.”
Emma almost laughed at the cruelty.
“Of course she did.”
Owen pressed his hand to the glass.
“Emma, I wanted to tell you.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Eight years wasn’t enough?”
Cross enjoyed every second.
Mason raised his weapon again.
“You wanted us here. We’re here.”
Cross looked at him.
“I want the key.”
Emma touched the flash drive in her pocket.
“Why?”
“Owen built an archive documenting everything. Accounts. Operations. Names.”
“Evidence against you.”
“And others.”
Cross’s smile disappeared.
“People far more powerful than me.”
Owen shouted, “Don’t give it to him!”
Cross pressed a button.
Gas began filling Owen’s chamber.
Emma screamed.
“No!”
Owen began coughing.
Cross held out one hand.
“The drive.”
Mason looked at Emma.
She pulled it from her pocket.
Owen shook his head violently.
Emma looked at Cross.
“If I give you this, you release him.”
“Yes.”
“Open the chamber first.”
“No.”
Emma’s eyes moved toward Mason.
Something silent passed between them.
She approached the console.
Cross descended the stairs.
“Put it here.”
Emma held out the drive.
Cross reached.
Mason fired.
Not at Cross.
At the ceiling sprinkler pipe.
Water exploded across the room.
Hale slammed his keycard into the emergency panel.
Marcus shot the lock.
Alarms screamed.
Owen’s chamber door released.
Emma ran inside.
“Owen!”
He collapsed into her arms.
Cross drew a gun.
Mason hit him before he could fire.
The two men crashed into the wall.
Emma dragged Owen out.
Hale grabbed him.
Marcus fired toward approaching guards.
“Move!”
Mason and Cross fought brutally.
Neither man was young anymore.
Both were injured.
Neither cared.
Cross slammed Mason against the glass.
“You should have died in that convoy.”
Mason struck him across the throat.
“You first.”
Emma shouted, “Mason!”
He turned.
Cross drew a knife.
Owen saw it.
“Mason!”
Too late.
Cross drove the blade into Mason’s side.
Emma screamed.
Mason staggered.
Cross smiled.
Then Mason caught his wrist, twisted, and buried the same knife into Cross’s shoulder.
Marcus grabbed Mason.
“We go now!”
They ran.
Behind them, Cross ripped the knife from his shoulder.
Blood covered his hand.
He watched Emma help Owen into the elevator.
Then he smiled.
Because Emma still had the drive.
And she had no idea that when she unlocked it inside Blackwater, Owen’s archive had automatically begun transmitting.
Not to the FBI.
May you like
Not to the Navy.
To every person named inside it.
