Chapter 3: The Voice on the Intercom
“Good evening, Fury Ten.””
The voice came through the intercom again.
Calm.
Measured.
Almost amused.
I knew that voice.
Eight years ago, I had heard it through a headset while bullets tore into the walls of a rural compound in the middle of the night.
Colonel Adrian Vale.
A man whose obituary had been published six years ago.
Tyler stared at the ceiling.
“That's impossible.””
Rourke kept his weapon raised.
“No,” he said.
“It's not.””
The emergency lights painted the room in pulses of red.
Someone was running in the hallway.
A door slammed.
Then the intercom crackled again.
“Rourke.””
Rourke's jaw clenched.
Vale continued.
“You always were slow to recognize a voice unless it was coming through your own radio.””
Rourke stepped toward the door.
“Show yourself.””
A quiet laugh came through the speaker.
“You haven't changed.””
I grabbed Rourke's sleeve.
“Don't.””
He looked at me.
“He wants us moving.””
“Exactly.””
Tyler swallowed.
“What does he want?””
I looked at my brother.
“You.””
His face tightened.
“No.””
The intercom clicked.
“Tyler.””
My brother flinched.
Vale laughed softly.
“You've had eight years to rehearse your innocence. I'm curious whether you've gotten better at it.””
Tyler's fists clenched.
“Go to hell.””
“Still loyal,” Vale said.
“That's almost touching.””
Rourke moved to the side of the door and motioned for us to stay back.
He opened it an inch.
The hallway was empty.
Except for the red emergency lights.
“Where's security?”” I whispered.
“Cut off from this wing,” Rourke said.
“How?””
He looked at the ceiling.
“Someone has control of the internal system.””
Tyler gave a nervous laugh.
“He couldn't possibly have access.””
Rourke looked at him.
“You sound very confident.””
“I know how this base works.””
“Then you know how difficult that would be.””
Tyler didn't answer.
I noticed his right hand.
He was shaking.
Not visibly enough for anyone else to notice.
But I did.
“Tyler.””
He looked at me.
“When was the last time you spoke to Vale?””
His eyes hardened.
“I never spoke to him.””
“You recognized his voice immediately.””
“So did you.””
“Because I met him.””
Tyler looked away.
“Tyler.””
“I told you. I don't know anything.””
“You do.””
The intercom interrupted us.
“She's right.””
Tyler went pale.
Vale's voice filled the room.
“She always was the observant one.””
I felt cold spread through my chest.
He had been listening.
He wasn't just controlling the speakers.
He was close.
Very close.
Rourke raised a finger to his lips.
Then pointed down the corridor.
We moved.
Quietly.
I stayed behind him.
Tyler followed.
For thirty yards, nothing happened.
Then I noticed something on the floor.
A folded piece of paper.
I stopped.
Rourke looked back.
“What?””
I pointed.
He crouched.
His fingers picked it up.
The paper had one sentence written in black ink.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD, FURY TEN.
Rourke looked at me.
“You received this before?””
“No.””
Tyler stared at the paper.
Then he whispered, “He knows.””
“Knows what?”” Rourke asked.
Tyler didn't answer.
I did.
“That I'm alive.””
We continued down the hall.
At the corner, Rourke stopped.
Voices.
Two men.
One was speaking quietly.
The other was listening.
Rourke held up his hand.
We waited.
The first voice spoke.
“Command thinks this is a systems malfunction.””
The second man laughed.
“Let them.””
I recognized neither voice.
Rourke leaned closer.
Then he moved.
Fast.
He crossed the corner and slammed one man against the wall.
The other reached inside his jacket.
I grabbed his wrist.
He looked at me with startled eyes.
I twisted.
The weapon fell.
Tyler kicked it away.
Rourke restrained the second man.
“Who are you?””
The man smiled.
“Wrong question.””
Rourke tightened his grip.
“Try me.””
The man looked directly at me.
“Fury Ten.””
My stomach dropped.
He knew the designation.
Rourke shoved him against the wall.
“Who sent you?””
The man's smile widened.
“Adrian.””
Tyler swore.
I looked at the man.
“Where is he?””
“He's been waiting.””
“Where?””
The man's eyes moved toward the end of the corridor.
“Where he always knew you'd come.””
Then something hissed.
A tiny object landed at our feet.
Rourke reacted immediately.
“Down!””
The room filled with white smoke.
I dropped.
My ears rang.
Someone shouted.
A body hit the floor.
I crawled blindly toward the wall.
“Rourke!””
“Here!””
His hand found my shoulder.
“Stay down.””
“Tyler?””
No answer.
“Tyler!””
I heard coughing.
“I'm here.””
The smoke burned my throat.
Then a door slammed.
Rourke stood.
“Move!””
We ran.
The corridor opened into an old records section.
Metal shelving rose on both sides.
Dust covered everything.
I stopped.
“Wait.””
Rourke turned.
“What?””
I looked at the shelves.
There were dozens of boxes.
Most were marked with dates.
One box had no label.
Just a black stripe.
My heart started pounding.
I knew that marking.
“That's Black Ridge.””
Rourke walked over.
He pulled the box free.
It was heavier than it looked.
He placed it on the floor.
Tyler came closer.
“Don't.””
I looked at him.
“Why?””
“Because some things should stay buried.””
“You've been saying that for eight years.””
He flinched.
Rourke opened the box.
Inside were photographs.
A damaged radio.
Three handwritten reports.
And a sealed evidence envelope.
My name was written across it.
Not Eleanor.
Not Ellie.
FURY TEN.
I stared at it.
“How?””
Rourke didn't touch the envelope.
“That's classified.””
“My life isn't classified.””
Tyler stepped backward.
I noticed.
“Why are you afraid of that envelope?””
“I'm not.””
“You are.””
“I don't know what's inside.””
“Then open it.””
He shook his head.
“No.””
I took the envelope.
Rourke caught my wrist.
“Wait.””
“Why?””
“Because your name shouldn't be in there.””
I looked at him.
“My name was in the original report.””
“No.””
His voice was low.
“It wasn't.””
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a single photograph.
Black and white.
A group of six people stood outside a damaged communications vehicle.
Rourke was there.
Tyler was there.
Four others.
I recognized Elena Voss immediately.
But the sixth person made my fingers go numb.
It was me.
Younger.
Twenty-three years old.
Wearing a tactical headset.
Standing beside the vehicle.
Alive.
Tyler stared at the photograph.
“No.””
Rourke took it from my hand.
His face hardened.
“This is fake.””
“It isn't.””
“It has been altered.””
I shook my head.
“I remember taking that picture.””
Tyler looked at me.
“You can't.””
“I can.””
“You were never on the ground.””
“I was.””
“No one knew.””
“I did.””
Tyler backed into the shelf.
Rourke looked between us.
“Why was your presence erased?””
I pointed at Tyler.
“Ask him.””
Tyler's eyes filled with something between anger and desperation.
“You don't understand.””
“Then explain it.””
“I was ordered to.””
“Ordered to do what?””
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Rourke stepped closer.
“Corporal.””
Tyler finally whispered,
“We were told that if Fury Ten was ever identified, everyone connected to Black Ridge would be considered compromised.””
My chest tightened.
“Who gave you that order?””
Tyler looked at the floor.
“Vale.””
“And you followed him.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Tyler's eyes met mine.
“Because he told me you'd been turned.””
Silence.
I stared at him.
“You believed I was working for the enemy?””
“I didn't know!””
“You watched me get left behind.””
“I thought you were dead!””
“You never came back.””
“You don't know what happened after!””
“I waited.””
His face crumpled.
“I waited too.””
Rourke looked at Tyler.
“Where?””
Tyler wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“The extraction point.””
“When?””
“Forty-seven minutes.””
My throat tightened.
“Forty-seven?””
He nodded.
“I kept asking for permission to go back.””
“And Vale?””
“He said no.””
“Why?””
Tyler didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“Why?””
He looked at me.
“Because the extraction wasn't the mission.””
Rourke's expression changed.
“What was the mission?””
Tyler stared at him.
“To retrieve the drive.””
Rourke went very still.
“What drive?””
Tyler pointed at the box.
“The one you just opened.””
I looked down.
There was a false bottom beneath the photographs.
Rourke lifted it.
Underneath was a small black data drive.
No label.
No markings.
Only one tiny number etched into its surface.
10.
My breath caught.
I reached for it.
Rourke grabbed my hand.
“Don't.””
“Why?””
His eyes were fixed on the drive.
“Because that is what Vale killed people for.””
A sound came from behind us.
Slow applause.
One clap.
Then another.
Then another.
We all turned.
Adrian Vale stood at the end of the records aisle.
Older.
Thinner.
A scar running from his left temple to his jaw.
But unmistakably alive.
He was holding a pistol.
Tyler whispered his name.
“Colonel.””
Vale smiled.
“Hello, Tyler.””
Rourke raised his weapon.
Vale looked at him.
“Marcus.””
Then his eyes settled on me.
The smile vanished.
“Eleanor.””
I felt my pulse pounding in my ears.
“You're alive.””
Vale tilted his head.
“So are you.””
He lifted the pistol.
“Unfortunately, only one of us is leaving this room.””
Then he pointed directly at Tyler.
May you like
And said,
“Your brother knows exactly why.””
