Chapter 2 - THE SECRET BENEATH THE FLOOR
“Everybody out.”
The commander's voice cut through the hall.
Military police immediately moved toward the doors.
Guests protested.
Phones appeared.
Victoria screamed that she was the mother of the groom and demanded an explanation.
Nobody listened.
Clara stood beside Arthur.
“Dad, what is happening?”
Arthur looked at her with an expression she had never seen before.
Fear.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
“We need to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because the people Julian works for may already know where you are.”
Julian suddenly laughed.
It was nervous and sharp.
“This is insane.”
He pointed at Arthur.
“You expect everyone to believe this man is some secret general?”
The commander opened the folder.
“Your company received thirty-seven million dollars through offshore accounts connected to the Nightglass network.”
Julian stopped smiling.
“That's impossible.”
“Then you'll have no problem explaining it to federal investigators.”
Two agents entered.
One approached Julian.
“Julian Hale, you're being detained pending investigation.”
Victoria stepped between them.
“You cannot arrest my son!”
The agent showed her a photograph.
It was old.
Thirty years old.
Arthur was standing beside six soldiers.
Beside him stood a woman.
Clara stared at the photograph.
Her breath caught.
“Mom.”
Arthur's eyes closed.
The woman was unmistakable.
Clara had not seen her mother since she was nine.
But there she was.
Young.
Alive.
Wearing a military uniform.
Clara turned toward Arthur.
“You told me Mom was killed in a car accident.”
Arthur said nothing.
“Dad.”
His silence was answer enough.
Clara backed away.
“You lied to me.”
“I protected you.”
“You lied!”
Her voice echoed across the emptying hall.
Arthur's face crumbled.
“I had no choice.”
The commander quietly placed the photograph into Clara's hand.
“Your mother was Agent Elena Vance.”
Clara stared at him.
“Agent?”
“She was part of General Vance's unit.”
Arthur finally spoke.
“She wasn't killed in a car accident.”
Clara's fingers tightened around the photograph.
“Then how did she die?”
Arthur looked toward Julian.
“Because she discovered what Nightglass really was.”
Julian suddenly lunged toward the nearest exit.
Two officers grabbed him.
“Let me go!”
Arthur watched him struggle.
Then he said quietly:
“Your father didn't build Nightglass.”
Julian froze.
“He inherited it.”
The commander opened another page.
“Your family has spent thirty years searching for one thing.”
“What?” Clara asked.
Arthur looked at her.
“The evidence that proves who ordered the massacre.”
Clara shook her head.
“I don't have anything.”
Arthur's expression changed.
“Yes, you do.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
“The thing your mother left you.”
Clara remembered the small silver locket she had worn since childhood.
Her father had always told her never to open it.
Never.
No matter what.
She touched it instinctively.
Arthur looked at the locket.
His face turned pale.
“Clara…”
The commander whispered:
“Where did you get that?”
“My mother gave it to me.”
“No,” Arthur said.
“She gave it to you before she died.”
He looked at the locket as though it were a loaded weapon.
“Open it.”
Clara's hands trembled.
She unclasped the tiny hinge.
Inside was a photograph.
But behind the photograph was something else.
A microchip.
May you like
And engraved on its surface were three words.
NIGHTGLASS — FINAL PROOF.
