Chapter 7 - MY WIFE WASN'T THE HOSTAGE
“Put my wife on.”
Victor laughed.
“You don’t make demands.”
I drove faster.
“Let me hear her.”
Another scream.
Then silence.
“I want the recorder from the gym and whatever Evelyn copied.”
“You’re assuming I have them.”
“I’m assuming you love your family.”
His voice became almost pleasant.
“Come to Pier Four alone.”
The call ended.
Rick stared at me.
“You can’t go.”
“I’m going.”
Dustin leaned forward.
“It’s a trap.”
“Obviously.”
“You don’t understand my uncle.”
I looked at him in the mirror.
“You’re beginning to annoy me with that sentence.”
My phone buzzed.
This time it was a text.
From Eleanor.
Three words.
I AM SAFE.
I almost drove through the intersection.
Another message followed.
THAT WASN'T ME.
I stared at the screen.
Then the phone rang again.
Eleanor.
“Frank?”
“Where are you?”
“Hospital security office.”
“Victor called me. I heard you scream.”
“That wasn’t me.”
I slowed the truck.
Rick whispered, “Recording.”
Of course.
Victor had used audio.
He wanted me angry and predictable.
Eleanor continued.
“Evelyn told security everything. They moved us to a restricted floor.”
“Do you have the drive?”
“Yes.”
“Do not give it to local police.”
“I know.”
Then another voice came through.
A man.
“Frank?”
I recognized it.
“Colonel Harris?”
Technically retired Colonel Harris.
One of my former students.
Now a federal investigator working organized crime cases across three states.
“I received a call from your wife,” he said.
I blinked.
Eleanor had contacted him without telling me.
Harris continued.
“She remembered you kept my number.”
“You’re at the hospital?”
“Just arrived.”
Relief hit me so hard my hands shook.
“Frank,” he said, “do not go to Pier Four.”
“Victor is expecting me.”
“Exactly.”
I looked at Dustin.
He was listening.
Harris continued.
“We’ve been investigating Victor for fourteen months.”
Rick nearly dropped the recorder.
“You already knew?”
“We knew pieces.”
“Then why isn’t he in prison?”
“Because every witness suddenly changes their story.”
Kessler.
The recordings.
The threats.
Everything connected.
Harris lowered his voice.
“The drive Evelyn found may be what we’ve needed.”
Dustin leaned forward.
“Ask him about Project Harbor.”
Harris went silent.
“What did he say?”
“Project Harbor,” I repeated.
There was a long pause.
When Harris spoke again, his tone was different.
“Frank, where did Dustin hear that phrase?”
I looked at him.
Dustin’s face had gone white.
“From Victor.”
Harris exhaled.
“Then this is bigger than we thought.”
“What is Project Harbor?”
Harris answered quietly.
“It’s the name of an operation that supposedly ended twelve years ago.”
I felt cold.
“Supposedly?”
“Yes.”
“Who ran it?”
Another pause.
May you like
Then Harris told me.
“My former commanding officer.”
