The man in the video spoke, his voice distorted by a modifier. “Julian. We know you didn’t go home. We know you are at the Route 9 facility. Your father thinks he is clever, but an empty grave is a very old trick. You have exactly thirty minutes to bring the contents of that briefcase to the house. If you involve the authorities, or if you attempt to flee, your mother pays the price for your father’s deception.”
The video cut to black.
I looked up at Agent Vance, the panic rising in my throat. “They’re at the house. They have my mother. You said she was safe, you said this plan was perfect!”
Vance didn’t look surprised; instead, her jaw tightened, and she stepped closer to the desk. “Julian, look at the satellite phone inside the briefcase. Is it ringing?”
I lowered my gaze to the black case. The small screen on the satellite phone was glowing bright blue. A number was flashing across the display. An international country code.
“Pick it up,” Vance ordered quietly.
I reached into the case and lifted the receiver, pressing it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Julian,” a voice replied. It was older, raspy, and strained, but I recognized it instantly. It was the voice of my father. “I am so sorry I had to put you through this. But you need to listen to me very carefully. The person in that video at the house is not holding your mother hostage.”
“What are you talking about?” I shouted into the phone. “I just saw her on the video! She’s terrified!”
“Julian,” my father’s voice came through the static, steady and deliberate. “Your mother passed away twelve years ago in a hospital in Boston. The woman you have called your mother for the last decade is an asset assigned to protect our perimeter. And right now, she is executing the final phase of the protocol to draw our enemies into one location. You need to take the flash drive from that case and hand it to Agent Vance immediately. Your real journey starts now.”
