CHAPTER 4 — Marco's Last Recording
The first gunshot shattered the silence above them.
BANG!
Dust rained from the basement ceiling.
Nora instinctively pulled Owen backward.
"What was that?"
Before either of them could react...
Another shot echoed through the abandoned tattoo shop.
BANG!
CRASH!
Glass exploded upstairs.
Someone had forced their way inside.
Owen's heart pounded.
"They found us."
Nora grabbed the cassette tape from the desk.
"What do we do?"
Owen looked toward the narrow staircase.
Only one way in.
Only one way out.
If armed men were already upstairs...
They were trapped.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the empty tattoo studio.
Not one person.
Several.
At least four.
A calm male voice called from above.
"Owen Callaway."
Silence.
"We know you're down there."
Nora's face turned white.
"They know your name..."
The voice continued.
"You have something that doesn't belong to you."
Another man laughed.
"Come upstairs."
"We don't want to hurt anyone."
Neither Owen nor Nora believed that for a second.
Suddenly...
A faint mechanical humming came from the old desk.
Owen frowned.
"What is that?"
The wooden desktop slowly shifted sideways.
Hidden beneath it was another compartment.
Inside sat an antique cassette player.
Still connected to power.
Along with a small handwritten note.
If they arrive before you listen... press PLAY immediately. Trust me. — Marco
Owen didn't hesitate.
He pushed the button.
The tape began to spin.
Static filled the room.
Then...
A familiar elderly voice spoke.
Weak.
Tired.
But unmistakably Marco's.
"If you're hearing this..."
"...they came too early."
A pause.
"I hoped I'd have more time."
"You probably think I was only a tattoo artist."
A soft laugh.
"I let the world believe that."
Another pause.
"The tattoos were never art."
"They were messages."
Owen and Nora looked at each other.
Marco continued.
"Not messages for the people wearing them."
"...messages for the people hunting them."
Nora whispered,
"What?"
Above them...
The armed men stopped moving.
One raised a hand.
"Wait."
Another frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"I hear a recording."
The leader smiled coldly.
"They found the tape."
He reached for his radio.
"Begin Phase Two."
Back in the basement...
Marco's voice grew more urgent.
"Eleven years ago..."
"...someone approached me."
"They offered more money than I had ever seen."
"They wanted identical tattoos placed on specific people."
"They handed me names."
"Addresses."
"Photographs."
"They said it was part of a behavioral experiment."
"I knew they were lying."
Owen clenched his fists.
Marco continued.
"I refused."
"So they killed my daughter."
The room fell silent.
Nora covered her mouth.
Tears filled her eyes.
Marco's breathing became uneven.
"I buried her alone."
"The police never found the killer."
"They never intended to."
"They came back a week later."
"They gave me another choice."
"Cooperate..."
"...or lose everyone."
"So I agreed."
"But I changed every design."
Owen suddenly understood.
"The birds..."
Marco almost sounded proud.
"Yes."
"The bird was my warning."
"If your bird was still flying..."
"...you were still in danger."
"If your bird had landed..."
"...you had already become part of something much bigger."
Nora instinctively touched her tattoo.
"My bird..."
Marco continued.
"There was only one design I made without their permission."
"The unfinished bird."
Owen's breathing stopped.
"I gave it to one man."
"The only man I believed could end this."
Owen whispered,
"Me?"
Marco answered as if he could hear him across eleven years.
"Yes, Owen."
"You."
At that exact moment...
The basement lights suddenly went out.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Only the cassette player's tiny orange light remained.
Upstairs...
The leader smiled.
"They cut the power."
Flashlights snapped on one by one.
Boots pounded toward the staircase.
Marco's voice continued through the darkness.
"If you're alive..."
"...then they failed."
"But listen carefully."
"The people hunting you..."
"...are not after revenge."
"They're protecting a secret."
"A secret worth billions."
Nora frowned.
"What secret?"
Marco answered.
"The children."
Both Owen and Nora froze.
"What children?"
"The children born after the tattoos."
Nora's heart stopped.
She thought of her daughters.
Marco continued.
"They believed the tattoos would identify specific bloodlines."
"They were wrong."
"But they didn't discover the mistake..."
"...until the children were born."
Nora felt sick.
"My girls..."
Marco spoke again.
"The four little girls..."
"...must never be separated."
Owen looked at Nora in disbelief.
Marco continued.
"They're not ordinary siblings."
"They are the final proof."
"The proof that Project Sparrow failed."
Suddenly...
The recording clicked.
Static.
Then another voice interrupted.
Not Marco's.
A woman.
Cold.
Controlled.
"Marco..."
"...if anyone is hearing this..."
"...you've already lost."
The cassette stopped.
Dead silence.
At that same instant...
The basement door exploded inward.
BOOM!
Concrete dust filled the air.
Masked men flooded down the staircase with rifles raised.
"Don't move!"
"Hands where we can see them!"
One laser sight settled directly on Owen's chest.
Another aimed at Nora.
The leader stepped forward slowly.
He removed his black gloves.
Then his mask.
Owen stared.
Recognition hit him like a freight train.
"No..."
It couldn't be.
The man smiled.
"It has been a long time."
Nora looked between them.
"You know him?"
Owen's voice shook.
"He worked with me..."
"...twelve years ago."
The man's smile widened.
"That's right."
"You knew me as Michael."
He took another step.
"But that was never my real name."
Nora's knees nearly gave way.
"What is your real name?"
The man looked directly into her eyes.
Then spoke the name that shattered every memory she had of the fiancé who vanished eleven years earlier.
"My name is Daniel."
The room fell silent.
Nora stared at him in horror.
"No..."
Tears streamed down her face.
"No..."
"You died."
The man smiled without a trace of warmth.
"I was never dead."
"I was never missing."
He looked toward the photographs covering the walls.
Then back at Nora.
"I was assigned to you."
His next words hit even harder.
May you like
"And those four little girls were never supposed to exist."
END OF CHAPTER 4
