"Who did this?"
Harlan struggled to breathe.
"Blackwood... isn't the one giving the orders."
"Who is?"
Harlan's fingers tightened around Richard's wrist.
"Look at the photograph..."
He tried to say something else.
Then his hand fell.
The general was dead.
Daniel slowly looked toward the open doorway.
A figure was standing at the far end of the corridor.
For one brief moment, Richard saw the person's face.
Then the figure disappeared.
On the floor beside Harlan was a small piece of paper.
Written across it were five words:
YOUR WIFE KNOWS WHERE HE IS.
Richard returned home just before midnight.
Eleanor was sitting in the living room.
She had not turned on the television or the lights. A single lamp illuminated the photograph of Michael on the fireplace.
Richard entered quietly.
"How long have you known?"
Eleanor looked up.
"Known what?"
"That Michael survived the explosion."
She closed her eyes.
The silence was answer enough.
Richard stood in front of her.
"Twenty years, Eleanor."
"I know."
"You let me believe our son was dead."
"I was trying to keep him alive."
Richard's voice broke.
"He's my son too."
"And I was trying to protect you."
He turned away.
"From what?"
"From the people who were watching our house. From the men who followed me to work. From the threats I received after Michael sent that message."
Eleanor stood.
"He told me that the mission had been compromised. He said he and James were trying to escape with the evidence."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't know whether I could trust you."
Richard stared at her.
The accusation hurt because he knew she had reasons.
"Did Michael contact you again?"
Eleanor nodded.
"Three months after the explosion."
Richard's heart began pounding.
"Where?"
"Through a letter delivered to an old family friend."
"What did it say?"
"He was alive. He and James had escaped. But they couldn't return because the people responsible for the operation were still searching for them."
Richard sat down.
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know."
"Then what do you know?"
Eleanor walked to the fireplace.
She removed a small photograph from behind the frame.
It showed a woman in a blue dress standing beside Michael.
Richard recognized the location.
An old coastal town where he and Eleanor had spent their honeymoon.
"Who is she?"
"Someone Michael trusted."
"Her name?"
"Dr. Sophia Bennett."
Richard examined the photograph.
Sophia had been a military medical officer twenty years earlier. She had treated several survivors from naval operations before resigning unexpectedly.
"Why is she wearing that dress?"
"Because Michael asked her to meet me here during last year's Christmas season."
Richard looked up sharply.
"Last year?"
Eleanor nodded.
"He was supposed to come."
"Did he?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because someone had discovered the meeting."
Richard walked toward the window.
"Did you see him?"
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears.
"Only for a few seconds. He was standing across the street. He looked older, thinner... but it was him."
Richard covered his mouth.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because he said you weren't ready."
Richard turned.
"Ready for what?"
Eleanor reached into a cabinet and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Michael standing beside a little girl.
The child appeared to be around eight years old.
On the back was a handwritten message.
Dad, this is Lily. I hope one day she gets to meet her grandfather.
Richard stared at the photograph.
His grandson.
A child he had never known existed.
Eleanor continued.
"Michael has a family, Richard."
Richard slowly sat down.
For twenty years, he had mourned a dead son.
All that time, Michael had been somewhere in the world, living under another identity, raising a child, and trying to survive.
"Why is he still hiding?"
"Because the conspiracy never ended."
Richard looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
Eleanor handed him another document.
It was a recent intelligence report.
The names of several officers involved in Operation Silent Harbor were listed.
At the bottom was a new name.
DIRECTOR OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE – ADMIRAL THOMAS BLACKWOOD.
Richard frowned.
"Blackwood was never appointed director."
"Apparently, he was promoted last month."
Richard stood.
"Who authorized it?"
Eleanor pointed to the signature.
Richard recognized it.
His own.
He stared at the document in disbelief.
It was a promotion recommendation he had signed without examining the supporting file.
Blackwood had used his authority to legitimize his rise.
A telephone rang.
Eleanor answered.
A woman's voice came through.
"Mrs. Whitmore?"
"Yes."
"This is Sophia Bennett. I have something that belongs to your son."
Eleanor's eyes widened.
"Where are you?"
"At the old lighthouse. Come alone."
The call ended.
Richard grabbed his coat.
"You're not going alone."
Eleanor looked at him.
"Then perhaps it's time you finally learned how to trust your family."
Together, they walked toward the door.
But neither noticed the small camera hidden outside the window.
Someone had been watching them.
And that person had already sent their destination to Blackwood.
Rear Admiral Thomas Blackwood.
Richard stared at it.
Then he turned toward Eleanor.
"He's going after her."
And for the first time in twenty years, Richard Whitmore ran.
The line went dead.
Richard slowly lowered the phone.
For the first time, he realized something terrible.
The person responsible for Michael's disappearance might still be inside the military.
And that person knew exactly where to find him.