Chapter 14 – The Traitor in the Mansion
The study erupted into controlled chaos.
"Seal every exit!"
Director Collins barked into his radio.
"No one leaves Blackthorn Manor."
"Everyone inside this house is now a potential suspect."
Within seconds, armed FBI agents flooded every hallway.
The mansion's steel security shutters slammed over the windows.
Electronic locks engaged with a heavy metallic click.
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours...
Blackthorn Manor became a fortress.
Only this time...
The enemy was already inside.
The audio technician replayed the cassette.
The final seven seconds.
Again.
And again.
Static.
Footsteps.
A woman screaming.
Then the man's voice.
"Recording located."
Another pause.
Then—
"No witnesses."
Gunfire.
Silence.
The technician isolated the voice.
Removed the background noise.
Enhanced the frequencies.
Director Collins listened through headphones.
His face hardened.
"Run it against every federal database."
The analyst nodded.
"Already doing it."
Nathan remained handcuffed near the fireplace.
He looked exhausted.
Broken.
"I know that voice."
Everyone turned.
"What?"
Nathan frowned.
"I can't remember where..."
"I've heard it before."
Director Collins stared at him.
"Think."
Nathan closed his eyes.
"It wasn't recently."
"Years ago."
"At a charity dinner..."
"No..."
"A company retreat..."
He shook his head.
"It's there."
"I just can't reach it."
The Staff Investigation
Every employee of Blackthorn Manor was gathered in the grand ballroom.
Housekeepers.
Gardeners.
Chefs.
Drivers.
Security guards.
Forty-three people.
Most had worked for William Hawthorne for decades.
Some looked terrified.
Others confused.
William entered the ballroom beside Director Collins.
His voice remained calm.
"If anyone here has been threatened..."
"If anyone has been paid to watch my daughter..."
"Speak now."
Silence.
No one moved.
Victoria slowly walked through the crowd.
Studying every face.
Then she suddenly stopped.
Her eyes settled on an elderly butler.
Thomas.
He had served the Hawthorne family for twenty-eight years.
Victoria whispered,
"No..."
William looked at her.
"What?"
She stepped toward Thomas.
"You've gotten older."
Thomas smiled politely.
"I'm afraid we all have."
Victoria's expression didn't change.
"What name did you use before Thomas?"
The smile disappeared.
The ballroom became silent.
Director Collins immediately noticed.
"Sir?"
William stared at his longtime butler.
"Answer her."
Thomas lowered his eyes.
"My name..."
"...has always been Thomas."
Victoria slowly shook her head.
"No."
"I remember every operative Alexander recruited."
"You weren't Thomas."
"You were..."
She stopped.
As if she couldn't believe it.
"Derek."
The old butler froze.
Twenty-Eight Years
William whispered,
"Impossible."
"You died."
Thomas—no...
Derek—laughed quietly.
"So everyone believed."
In one smooth motion, he removed his gray wig.
Then the artificial wrinkles around his jaw.
Latex skin peeled away.
The frail old servant disappeared.
Standing before everyone...
Was a fit man in his early fifties.
Several FBI agents immediately raised their weapons.
He didn't resist.
Instead...
He smiled.
"I wondered how long it would take."
William stared at him in disbelief.
"You've been in my home..."
"For twenty-eight years."
Derek nodded.
"Twenty-nine, actually."
Nathan whispered,
"My God..."
The man who had served dinner.
Opened doors.
Polished silver.
Prepared guest rooms.
Had been a spy for nearly three decades.
William's voice was almost inaudible.
"Why?"
Derek looked directly at me.
"Her."
The room fell silent.
"I was sent to watch the child."
A Life Under Surveillance
Director Collins stepped forward.
"You reported to Alexander?"
"No."
Derek answered.
"I reported to Adrian."
Victoria frowned.
"Adrian recruited you?"
"He saved my life."
Derek replied calmly.
"I owed him everything."
William clenched his fists.
"So every birthday..."
"You watched."
"Yes."
"Every graduation."
"Yes."
"When she cried after falling off her bicycle?"
"Yes."
"When she married Nathan?"
"Yes."
"When she buried her mother?"
"Yes."
Every answer landed like another blow.
I looked at Derek.
"You could have killed me."
He nodded once.
"Many times."
"Why didn't you?"
His expression softened.
"Because after watching you grow up..."
"I couldn't."
Silence.
Even Director Collins hesitated.
"Were you ever ordered to harm her?"
Derek answered honestly.
"No."
"My only instruction was simple."
"What instruction?"
"Keep Evelyn alive."
The room became perfectly still.
William frowned.
"That makes no sense."
"It didn't to me either."
Derek admitted.
"But Adrian never changed the order."
The Database Returns a Match
An FBI analyst rushed into the ballroom.
"Director!"
"We identified the voice."
Everyone turned.
"Who is it?"
The analyst swallowed.
"It's not Derek."
"It's not anyone inside this room."
He handed Collins a printed report.
Voice Identification:
98.7% Match
Name:
Richard Kane
Status:
Missing
Since:
Thirty-two years ago.
Victoria's face turned white.
"No..."
William looked at her.
"You know him."
She nodded slowly.
"He was supposed to die with Evelyn's parents."
Nathan frowned.
"So he survived?"
Victoria whispered,
"He disappeared."
The analyst continued reading.
"Former position..."
He hesitated.
"...Deputy Director of the National Intelligence Bureau."
The room exploded with shocked voices.
William stared at the report.
"That's impossible."
"Richard was one of the investigators."
Victoria slowly nodded.
"He wasn't investigating Project Phoenix."
"He was protecting it."
Derek's Final Secret
Director Collins turned back toward Derek.
"When did you last speak to Adrian?"
Derek looked at me.
"This morning."
"What did he say?"
"He told me..."
Derek paused.
"...to give Evelyn something."
He reached into his jacket.
Agents instantly surrounded him.
"It's alright."
He said calmly.
"It's only a key."
A small brass key landed on the ballroom table.
Attached was a faded luggage tag.
Locker 317.
Grand Central Terminal.
New York City.
Nathan frowned.
"A train station?"
Derek nodded.
"I was told..."
"...everything Evelyn needs to know is waiting there."
William looked suspicious.
"A trap."
"Probably."
Victoria answered.
"But also..."
"...our only lead."
Before anyone could speak again—
Every television inside the mansion suddenly turned on.
Alexander Vaughn appeared once more.
He smiled as though he'd been watching everything.
Because he had.
"Congratulations."
"You finally found Derek."
He laughed softly.
"He always did grow attached."
Derek lowered his head.
Alexander looked directly into the camera.
"Now let's see how attached."
The screen switched.
A live video feed appeared.
A young woman...
Bound to a chair inside a dark warehouse.
Her mouth covered with tape.
Bruises across her face.
Derek's expression shattered.
"No..."
He whispered.
On the screen...
Alexander smiled.
"You've protected William's daughter for twenty-nine years."
He leaned closer to the camera.
"But..."
"...who's protecting yours?"
Derek screamed for the first time.
"My daughter..."
Alexander nodded.
"Yes."
"I found her."
The room fell silent.
Then Alexander spoke one final sentence before the screen went black.
May you like
"Bring Evelyn to Locker 317..."
"...or Derek's daughter dies before sunrise."
