He had never bothered to ask what I actually did.
“General Evelyn Mitchell,” Reyes continued, addressing the officers, “commander of the Strategic Communications Defense Group. Please confirm her identity and document the injuries.”
A medic approached.
I raised my hand.
“Check my mother first.”
“General, you're injured.”
“She is frightened. Check her first.”
Reyes gave a small nod.
The medic guided Emma toward a chair. My mother sat down slowly, her eyes fixed on me.
“Why didn't you tell us?” she asked.
I looked at her.
“Tell you what?”
“That you were... that important.”
I almost smiled.
“Mom, I told you what I did. You thought I was exaggerating.”
“I thought you worked with computers and military communications.”
“I do.”
Tyler let out a nervous breath.
“This is insane.”
“No,” I replied. “What's insane is that you watched a police officer put a gun against your sister and decided to keep recording instead of helping her.”
He lowered his phone.
“I didn't know what was happening.”
“You didn't ask.”
Chief Harris suddenly laughed.
“You people are making a mistake. I have a warrant. I received a report that this woman was threatening residents, claiming federal authority, and possessing classified government material.”
Reyes turned toward him.
“Where is that warrant?”
Harris hesitated.
“In my vehicle.”
“Then someone can retrieve it.”
One of the agents stepped outside.
I rubbed my wrist as the medic examined the red mark left by the handcuff.
“General,” Reyes said quietly, “we need to know why you came here without notifying the local authorities.”
“Because I wasn't here on an official visit.”
He waited.
“I came to see my mother.”
That answer seemed to trouble him more than anything else.
Three days earlier, I had received a message from an unknown number. It contained a photograph of an old military communications unit that had belonged to my father, Daniel Mitchell.
My father had died six months earlier.
The message contained only six words:
Your father didn't die without leaving evidence.
I had spent the following days tracing the sender. The investigation led me to a retired defense contractor, then to a private security company called Northstar Dynamics.
And finally, to my father's old house.
I hadn't told my mother because I didn't want to frighten her.
I certainly hadn't told Tyler, who had a habit of sharing every family secret with anyone willing to listen.
“Did you find it?” Reyes asked.
“No.”
“Did anyone else know you were looking?”
I glanced toward my brother.
“I don't know.”
Tyler looked away.
Before I could question him, the agent returned carrying a folded document.
Reyes examined it.
His expression changed.
“This warrant is signed by a county magistrate. It authorizes a search for stolen government equipment and electronic records.”
Harris immediately straightened.
“Exactly. Now you understand.”
“No,” Reyes replied. “I understand that you have a warrant authorizing a search. I don't understand why you used unnecessary force, threatened a federal military officer, or attempted to seize a secure device.”
“She's not above the law!”
“I never said she was.”
Reyes folded the paper.
“Neither are you.”
He turned to me.
“General, there's something else.”
“What?”
“The message that brought you here wasn't the only one. Our monitoring team intercepted another communication involving this address about forty minutes ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did it say?”
Reyes glanced at the officers.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Someone told Northstar that the Mitchell family had located the original drive.”
I looked toward my mother.
She had gone completely pale.
“Mom?”
Her hands tightened around the edges of her apron.
“I didn't tell anyone,” she whispered.
But she wasn't looking at me.
She was looking at Tyler.
And suddenly, my brother's phone seemed much more interesting than the chief's warrant.
CHAPTER 3 – The Secret Beneath the Floor
“Tyler,” I said, “put your phone on the table.”
He stared at me.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know what you've been recording.”
“Nothing. Just what happened.”
“Then you won't mind.”
He looked toward Chief Harris, who was now standing beside two security officers.
For a moment, I thought Tyler would refuse.
Instead, he placed the phone on the table.
Reyes instructed one of his agents to preserve the recording without accessing or altering the original device. Tyler protested, but the agent explained that the footage could become evidence in a federal investigation.
My mother finally stood.
“There's something you both need to know.”
I turned toward her.
She walked to the kitchen cabinet, opened the bottom drawer, and removed a small wooden box.
I recognized it immediately.
It had belonged to my father.
He used to keep old photographs, military badges, and handwritten notes inside it. After his funeral, Mom had packed most of his belongings away.
I had assumed the box was empty.
She placed it on the table.
“Your father gave me this two weeks before he died.”
My throat tightened.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he made me promise.”
She opened the box.
Inside was a brass key, a folded photograph, and a handwritten letter addressed to both of us.
I recognized my father's handwriting immediately.
His letters leaned slightly to the right, and he always underlined the names of people he considered important.
I unfolded the letter.
Emma,
If our children are reading this, then someone has finally started asking questions.
I spent thirty-one years serving this country. I believed that the people responsible for protecting it would always choose the truth over money and reputation.