Chapter 5: The Truth in the Static
I sat in the quiet of my living room. The fire had died down to embers. The silence was heavy, broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock. I plugged the thumb drive into my tablet.
It wasn’t a bank statement. It was a series of intercepted emails.
My father had been communicating with a private military contractor—a man I knew. A man named Colonel Vance, who had been my commanding officer during my first tour.
Dear Vance, the email read. Ethan is getting too close to the logistics trail. He’s asking questions about the missing steel shipments in the sector. If he stays there, he’ll find the link to Hale Construction. Can you extend his deployment? Better yet, put him in a high-risk zone where communications are ‘unreliable.’ We need six months to clear the books at home.
The reply from Vance made my stomach turn. Understood, Richard. Consider him occupied. Just make sure my share of the ‘retirement fund’ is moved to the Cayman account by Friday.
They hadn’t just stolen my life while I was gone. They had actively tried to get me killed to cover their tracks. My own father had sold my life for the price of a few thousand tons of siphoned government steel.
I leaned back, the weight of the realization pressing the air from my lungs. My entire career—the medals, the scars, the nights I spent mourning friends—had been manipulated by the man who gave me my name.
I looked at the photos on the mantle. There was one of me and Richard when I graduated from Jump School. He looked so proud. Now, I saw the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t proud of my service; he was proud that his “asset” was in place.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from the hospital.
Emma is awake. Noah is eating. They’re going to be okay. Come home, Ethan.
I stood up. I didn’t want this house anymore. The walls were tainted. The air felt like it was filled with the dust of old lies.
I grabbed my field coat and walked out into the snow. I didn’t lock the door. There was nothing left inside worth stealing.
Cliffhanger: As I drove toward the hospital, a black SUV pulled out from a side street, tailing me with its lights off. I recognized the grill. It was the same model the contractors used. Vance wasn’t waiting for the FBI to find him.
