CHAPTER 5: THE MAN INSIDE OUR OWN HOUSE
The abandoned maintenance facility consisted of three concrete garages, a fuel depot, and an office building that smelled like mildew and old motor oil.
By 2:14 a.m., it had become a temporary federal fortress.
Thomas was moved into the innermost room.
Ryan sat outside.
He refused to go in.
I couldn't blame him.
Ortiz and I stood over a folding table covered with communication equipment.
The bridge attack had confirmed the obvious.
Our route had leaked.
But only nine people knew the final route.
I was one.
Ortiz was another.
Thomas's witness handlers made three and four.
Five members of federal command had received the sealed coordinates less than two hours before movement.
One of those nine had betrayed us.
Ortiz displayed the list.
"Who do you trust?"
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
"Nobody."
"Good answer."
My secure phone rang.
Deputy Director Adrian Mercer.
My boss.
The man who had recruited me into protective operations fourteen years earlier.
The man who had stood beside my mother's hospital bed when she died.
The man who had recommended me for promotion.
I answered.
"Mercer."
"Marcus, status."
"Compromised."
"I know about the bridge."
"How?"
A pause.
"National command notified me."
Too smooth.
"When?"
"Ten minutes ago."
Another lie.
We had not transmitted the bridge details to national command until four minutes earlier.
I looked at Ortiz.
She read my expression.
Mercer continued.
"We're sending extraction."
"Where?"
"Your current position."
My blood chilled.
Nobody outside our convoy knew our current position.
I hadn't transmitted it.
Ortiz hadn't.
The facility had been selected after the attack.
I spoke carefully.
"How do you know where we are?"
Silence.
Then Mercer sighed.
"Marcus."
That sigh told me everything.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Disappointment.
As though I had spoiled something.
"How long?" I asked.
Mercer's voice softened.
"You were always too observant."
I ended the call.
Ortiz stared at me.
"Mercer?"
I nodded.
For the first time that night, I genuinely felt betrayed.
Mitchell had been a stranger.
Danner was a corrupt sheriff.
Mercer was different.
He had been family.
"He knows our location," I said.
"Then we move."
"Immediately."
Thomas appeared in the doorway.
"No."
Ortiz turned.
"You don't make that decision."
"If you keep running, they'll keep finding us."
"We're not debating witness protocol."
Thomas looked at me.
"Mercer?"
I nodded.
Thomas's expression hardened.
"I knew there was someone federal."
"You knew him?"
"Not by name."
Ryan stood slowly.
"What does Mercer want?"
Thomas answered.
"What everybody in this organization wants."
"Money?"
"No."
"Power?"
Thomas shook his head.
"Survival."
He walked toward the table.
"The network started with evidence theft. Then protection. Then judges. Contracts. Elections. People joined because money was easy."
He looked directly at Ryan.
"But eventually too many people knew too much. After that, nobody was protecting a business."
His voice dropped.
"They were protecting each other from prison."
Ortiz checked her watch.
"Extraction team?"
I looked at her.
"Assume hostile."
"Agreed."
Ryan stared at the communications screen.
"There's another way out."
I turned.
He pointed toward the map.
"Storm-drain service tunnel beneath the south garage. Comes out near an old rail line."
"Vehicles?"
"No."
"Distance?"
"Two miles on foot."
Thomas looked at his son.
"How do you know?"
Ryan didn't look at him.
"Danner brought me here when I was thirteen."
Thomas went pale.
"Why?"
"Said you used to take him hunting around here."
Thomas stared at the floor.
"I never hunted here."
Ryan's face tightened.
Another childhood memory rewritten.
Another piece of Danner's fiction collapsing.
Ortiz gave orders.
"We leave in six minutes."
I pulled Ryan aside.
"You don't have to come."
He laughed bitterly.
"Federal agent tells me my dead father is alive, my sheriff is corrupt, my patrol terminal was hacked, and my boss tried to murder a convoy."
He looked at me.
"Where exactly would you suggest I go?"
"Fair point."
He studied my wrists.
The marks from the cuffs were darker now.
"I'm sorry."
I said nothing.
"What I did out there..."
"Don't."
"I need to say it."
"You need to survive tonight."
"I treated you like I'd already decided who you were."
"Yes."
His eyes lowered.
"I saw the car. Saw you. Saw the alert. And everything after that I forced to fit what I expected."
I held his gaze.
"That's going to matter later."
"I know."
"An apology doesn't erase it."
"I know."
"Cooperation doesn't erase it."
"I know."
"But what you do next still matters."
Ryan nodded.
"Then tell me what to do."
Before I could answer, the facility lights died.
Darkness swallowed the building.
Ortiz's voice came through the black.
"They're here."