Chapter 9 - The Vault Beneath the Mountain
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Buster found the forgotten tunnel in less than six minutes.
It was hidden behind brush and a collapsed drainage wall.
The opening looked too narrow for a person.
Marcus disagreed.
“You first.”
I looked at him.
“Why me?”
“You’re smaller.”
“You’re wounded.”
“So are you.”
Buster crawled inside.
That ended the argument.
We followed.
The tunnel smelled of rust, standing water, and decades of neglect.
Pendelton stayed outside with the President.
He hated it.
But someone had to coordinate the evacuation and prevent compromised personnel from leaving.
Marcus and I moved with four operators.
The countdown on my watch showed twenty-two minutes.
The passage widened after fifty yards.
Old electrical cables ran along the walls.
Most had been cut.
Buster moved confidently.
“Why does he know where he’s going?” I whispered.
Marcus shook his head.
“He doesn’t.”
“That’s comforting.”
“He smells people.”
That was less comforting.
We reached a steel maintenance hatch.
Locked.
One operator placed a small breaching charge.
The explosion sounded enormous inside the tunnel.
We entered a forgotten service corridor beneath Mount Weather.
Dust covered everything.
A faded Navy emblem remained on one wall.
Seventh Harbor.
Dana had been right.
We moved deeper.
The first body appeared near a stairwell.
A technician.
Shot recently.
Marcus checked him.
“Dead.”
His access badge was missing.
Vance had already been here.
We reached the archive level.
The vault door stood open.
My stomach dropped.
Inside, shelves had been emptied.
Paper files burned inside metal bins.
Computer drives lay shattered across the floor.
“We’re too late.”
Marcus moved farther inside.
“Maybe not.”
Buster had stopped beside a cabinet.
He scratched at the bottom.
Marcus pulled it away from the wall.
Behind it was a recessed compartment.
Inside sat an old encrypted storage unit.
A handwritten label was taped across it.
WARD.
I stared at Marcus.
“Found him.”
A voice came from behind us.
“No.”
We spun.
A thin man stood in the doorway.
Gray beard.
Hollow cheeks.
Prison clothing beneath an oversized military coat.
He raised both hands.
“You found my backup.”
“Dr. Elias Ward?”
He nodded.
Buster approached him.
Ward lowered his hand slowly.
The dog sniffed.
Then relaxed.
Marcus lowered his weapon.
“Where is Vance?”
“Command chamber.”
“How many men?”
“Eight.”
“What is the countdown?”
Ward looked at the red numbers on the wall.
“Nerve center purge.”
“What does that mean?”
“He intends to destroy the facility’s authentication core.”
Marcus frowned.
“Why?”
“To erase proof that the false attack originated here.”
I lifted the storage unit.
“Is this proof?”
“Much more.”
Ward looked at me.
“It contains financial records, command transcripts, payment chains, and identities.”
“The twelve names?”
His face changed.
“You know about those?”
“Dana Park recorded them.”
Ward looked down.
Pain crossed his face.
“Dana.”
“You knew her?”
“She was helping me.”
My throat tightened.
Ward touched the storage unit.
“These people call themselves the Directorate.”
“Cole and Vance?”
“Members.”
“Who is Crown?”
Ward looked directly at me.
“The architect.”
“Who?”
Before he answered, gunfire erupted in the corridor.
We dropped behind the shelves.
Vance’s men had found us.
Marcus fired twice.
One attacker fell.
Buster barked fiercely.
Ward crawled beside me.
“Crown designed Directive Twelve.”
“Name.”
Another explosion rocked the corridor.
Ward shouted over the noise.
“General Samuel Rourke.”
I froze.
Rourke.
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.
One of the most powerful military officers in the country.
Pendelton had trusted him.
The President had trusted him.
America had trusted him.
Marcus stared at Ward.
“Where is Rourke now?”
Ward’s answer was almost drowned by gunfire.
“Washington.”
I felt cold.
While we chased Vance into the mountain, the architect remained at the center of power.
The countdown showed fourteen minutes.
Marcus grabbed the storage device.
“We have to move.”
Ward stopped him.
“No.”
“What?”
“The drive is encrypted.”
“Can you decrypt it?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Command chamber.”
Of course.
The one place Vance was waiting.
We fought our way through two corridors.
One operator was wounded.
Another stayed behind with him.
Ten minutes remained.
We reached the command level.
The blast door was sealed.
Ward pointed toward an emergency maintenance panel.
“If we open that, he’ll know.”
“He already knows.”
Marcus connected an override cable.
The door opened three inches.
Then stopped.
Buster forced his nose into the gap.
“Buster, no.”
Too late.
The dog squeezed through.
Marcus cursed.
Gunfire erupted on the other side.
Buster barked.
Then yelped.
Marcus went white.
“Buster!”
He forced himself through the gap.
I followed.
Inside the command chamber, smoke filled the air.
Two guards were down.
Buster stood over one of them.
Blood marked his shoulder.
But he was standing.
Marcus dropped beside him.
“Easy.”
The wound was a graze.
General Vance stood at the far console.
He held a pistol against Dr. Ward’s control terminal.
“Stop.”
We raised our weapons.
Vance smiled.
“Captain.”
The timer showed seven minutes.
“You cannot win this.”
I looked at the pistol.
Then at the console.
“You said that before.”
Vance’s eyes flicked toward Marcus.
“You should have left him.”
“No.”
“That decision caused all of this.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
My voice steadied.
“Your decision did.”
Vance’s face hardened.
Ward moved toward a side terminal.
Vance pointed the gun at him.
Buster growled.
Then the overhead speakers activated.
A new voice filled the chamber.
General Samuel Rourke.
“Thomas.”
Vance froze.
Rourke continued.
“You failed.”
Something changed in Vance’s face.
Fear.
Not of us.
Of Rourke.
Then the command console flashed.
REMOTE PURGE ENABLED.
The timer dropped instantly.
Seven minutes became sixty seconds.
Ward shouted.
“He accelerated it!”
Rourke’s voice remained calm.
“Loose ends are liabilities.”
Vance stared at the speaker.
“You said extraction was prepared.”
“No.”
Rourke answered almost gently.
“You were always Phase Five.”
The meaning hit all of us.
Vance had betrayed Snow Lantern.
Cole had betrayed the President.
And now Rourke was betraying Vance.
The countdown reached forty-five seconds.
Ward ran toward the console.
“I need the recorder.”
Marcus threw him Buster’s device.
Ward connected it.
“What are you doing?”
“Authenticating the original Vance transmission.”
Thirty seconds.
Vance raised his gun.
I aimed at him.
“Don’t.”
For the first time, the general looked old.
“You think Pendelton will save you?”
“No.”
Twenty seconds.
“I think the truth will.”
Ward slammed his hand against the console.
UPLOAD VERIFIED.
The countdown stopped at twelve seconds.
Silence.
Then every command monitor displayed a message.
FALSE WARNING SOURCE CONFIRMED.
AUTHENTICATION COMPROMISED.
Across the nation, the attack alert began shutting down.
Vance stared at the screens.
His empire was collapsing.
But Rourke was still free.
And on the final monitor, a secure message appeared.
WASHINGTON CONTINUITY SESSION COMMENCES 0900.
Pendelton’s voice came over our local radio.
“Captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We have a new problem.”
I looked at the time.
07:41.
“What?”
“General Rourke has called an emergency meeting of the National Security Council.”
Ward went pale.
May you like
Pendelton continued.
“And he is telling them the President has been compromised by enemy agents.”
