Chapter 8 - The Twelve Names
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Vice President Cole was transferred to a loyal Secret Service team before dawn.
The President ordered his detention kept secret.
For the moment, the country still believed Cole was coordinating emergency operations.
That deception bought us time.
Not much.
But enough to move.
We traveled toward Mount Weather in an armored convoy with communications completely isolated from the national defense network.
The President rode in the lead vehicle with Pendelton.
Marcus, Buster, and I rode behind them.
The mountains appeared dark against the early morning sky.
My body felt like it had been assembled from broken pieces.
Marcus looked worse.
Neither of us mentioned it.
He held Buster’s recorder in both hands.
“We need to know what else is on this.”
I nodded.
The device contained almost thirty hours of audio.
Most was wind, gunfire, movement, and static.
But somewhere inside it might be the proof we needed.
A technician had created a raw transcript during the drive.
Marcus scrolled slowly.
Then stopped.
“What?”
He turned the screen toward me.
A section had been captured six hours before the ambush.
Lieutenant Park was speaking inside Facility Seven.
Her voice was faint.
I read the transcript.
Twelve names.
Not full names.
Call signs.
VANCE.
CROWN.
ARCHER.
BISHOP.
NORTH.
IRON.
LANTERN.
CIPHER.
ORACLE.
FALCON.
RIVER.
JUDGE.
My chest tightened.
“Twelve.”
Marcus nodded.
Vance had told us there were twelve more.
Maybe these were them.
“Who is Crown?”
“No idea.”
“Cole?”
“Maybe.”
The next lines showed Park speaking again.
“If Jenkins gets out, use Seventh Harbor.”
I stared at the screen.
“What is Seventh Harbor?”
Marcus shook his head.
The transcript continued.
Park said, “Not Pentagon.”
Then static.
Then three words.
“Old Navy vault.”
I looked toward Marcus.
“Do you know what that means?”
“No.”
But Pendelton did.
When we showed him the transcript, he ordered the convoy to stop.
We gathered beside the vehicles beneath a gray morning sky.
The President remained inside with security.
Pendelton read Park’s words twice.
“Seventh Harbor.”
His voice had changed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A Cold War archive.”
“Where?”
“Under Mount Weather.”
Marcus stared at him.
“There’s an archive beneath the continuity facility?”
“An old one.”
Pendelton looked toward the mountain.
“It predates most modern network architecture.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning it cannot be hacked remotely.”
I understood.
Dana Park had known.
Before she died, she had left a trail.
If we reached the old Navy vault, we might find whatever evidence Dr. Ward collected.
“Does Vance know?”
Pendelton looked toward the facility ahead.
“If he does, that archive is already gone.”
We continued.
Mount Weather appeared behind layers of security fencing and fortified gates.
The exterior guards allowed the presidential convoy through immediately.
That bothered me.
No resistance.
No questions.
Either Vance had lost control.
Or he wanted us inside.
Buster began growling before we reached the underground entrance.
Marcus touched his harness.
“What do you smell?”
The dog stared toward a ventilation structure.
Then he barked.
We stopped.
A security officer opened the vent housing.
Inside was a small electronic device.
The technician examined it.
“Repeater.”
“For what?”
He checked.
Then froze.
“Remote detonation network.”
Pendelton looked toward the mountain.
Vance had wired the facility.
The President’s voice came through our local radio.
“Can it be disabled?”
“Maybe.”
“How many devices?”
The technician shook his head.
“Unknown.”
The President answered immediately.
“Evacuate nonessential personnel.”
Sirens began inside Mount Weather.
But the main blast doors suddenly closed.
Someone had overridden evacuation.
The President looked at me.
“Vance.”
“Yes, sir.”
A monitor near the entrance activated.
General Vance appeared.
He looked exhausted now.
No medals.
No tribunal uniform.
Just a combat jacket and a pistol holstered at his side.
“Mr. President.”
The President stepped toward the screen.
“Thomas.”
Vance smiled.
“You should have signed the transfer.”
“You should have remembered your oath.”
“I remember it perfectly.”
Vance looked toward me.
“Captain Jenkins.”
My skin crawled.
“You continue to survive.”
“So does Marcus.”
Vance’s smile tightened.
“And the dog.”
Buster growled.
Vance’s eyes moved toward the recorder.
“That device has caused remarkable inconvenience.”
“Good.”
His smile disappeared.
Then he looked at Pendelton.
“Arthur, you always believed institutions could correct themselves.”
Pendelton stepped closer.
“They can.”
“No.”
Vance shook his head.
“People correct them.”
“By murdering soldiers?”
“By removing weakness.”
I had heard enough.
“Where is Dr. Ward?”
Vance’s eyes returned to me.
For the first time, he hesitated.
That told me everything.
“He’s alive.”
Vance said nothing.
Marcus stepped beside me.
“He’s here.”
Again, silence.
Pendelton looked toward the sealed mountain entrance.
“Thomas, open the doors.”
“No.”
The President approached the screen.
“That is an order.”
Vance smiled sadly.
“That sentence stopped mattering hours ago.”
Then every monitor displayed a countdown.
00:29:59.
Thirty minutes.
The technician swore.
“What happens at zero?”
Vance answered.
“Truth becomes irrelevant.”
The screen went black.
Pendelton turned toward the old facility maps.
“We need another entrance.”
Marcus pointed to the mountain’s northern slope.
“Maintenance tunnels?”
Pendelton nodded.
“Sealed decades ago.”
I looked at Buster.
The dog was already pulling toward the ventilation structure.
Marcus smiled.
“Sealed to people.”
We followed Buster toward the mountain.
Twenty-nine minutes remained.
Somewhere inside were General Vance, Dr. Ward, the old Navy archive, and enough explosives to bury every secret beneath thousands of tons of rock.
And for the first time, I understood why Dana Park had trusted the message to us.
Not to the Pentagon.
Not to generals.
Not to computers.
May you like
To soldiers.
And to one stubborn dog nobody important had considered worth saving.
