He looked up.
“Go ahead.”
“Did you recognize the caller's voice?”
“No.”
“Did your father say anything else before the call ended?”
“He told me not to trust you.”
Victoria looked down.
“That's what I was afraid of.”
David leaned forward.
“Why would he say that?”
“I don't know.”
“You've been investigating him for months. You found a photograph. You knew Mom might be alive. You knew our location was compromised. What exactly have you been doing all this time?”
Victoria sat opposite him.
“Trying to find out who controlled the operation that made our parents disappear.”
“What operation?”
“An intelligence program called Project Harborlight.”
David frowned.
“Never heard of it.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
Victoria explained that Harborlight had originally been designed to protect witnesses and relocate individuals who possessed sensitive government information.
Over time, however, its authority had been abused.
People were moved without proper documentation.
Records were altered.
Identities were replaced.
And some individuals who were supposed to be protected had never been seen again.
David listened without interrupting.
Victoria continued.
“Our father worked as a logistics consultant for the program. He discovered that aircraft and military transport vehicles were being used to move people outside official channels.”
“People like those two contractors?”
“Possibly.”
“And Mom?”
“Mother was responsible for auditing the civilian transfer records.”
David stared at her.
“So both of them were involved.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did they disappear?”
Victoria opened a folder.
“Because they found a list of unauthorized transfers.”
She placed a document on the table.
There were twelve names.
Several belonged to former military personnel.
Others belonged to government contractors.
At the bottom was a handwritten entry:
ELEANOR CARTER — STATUS UNKNOWN.
David felt his stomach tighten.
“That's Mom's name.”
Victoria nodded.
“Her file was reopened last year.”
“By whom?”
“An anonymous source.”
David looked at the list again.
Then he noticed something.
One name was familiar.
LIEUTENANT VANESSA REED.
He looked up.
“Why is that police officer's name on here?”
Victoria took the document.
She examined it carefully.
Then she turned toward Agent Brooks.
“Where did this list come from?”
“Recovered from a secure archive.”
“Who compiled it?”
“We don't know.”
Victoria stared at Reed's name.
“Find out everything about her.”
David looked at his sister.
“You think she knew who I was?”
“I think someone selected her for that call.”
“Why?”
Victoria closed the folder.
“Because they wanted to see whether you would react.”
David frowned.
“React to what?”
“Your old identity.”
For the first time, Victoria said the words aloud.
“David Alexander Carter is not the only identity you've ever used.”
David's face hardened.
“Don't.”
“David—”
“I said don't.”
Sophia looked between them.
“What does she mean?”
David took his daughter's hand.
“Something from before you were born.”
Victoria lowered her voice.
“Something that might be the reason our father called today.”
A federal agent entered the room.
“Deputy Director, we found Lieutenant Harris.”
Victoria stood.
“Where?”
“He's at the police department.”
“Alive?”
The agent hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Then bring him here.”