Chapter 1 - The Federal LieThe rhythmic beeping from Unit 17 echoed against the cold metal walls of the storage facility, matching the erratic thumping of my own heart. I stared at the blinking red light of my phone, where my mother’s name still flashed relentlessly.
"She shouldn't be calling you," Special Agent Miller said, her hand resting firmly on the holster at her hip. "In fact, nothing about what your father set into motion tonight is what it appears to be."
"My father is dead," I insisted, though my voice lacked conviction even to my own ears. "I identified the body at the county morgue. I picked out the mahogany casket. How do you fake a corpse?"
Miller didn't flinch. She stepped toward the heavy roll-up door of Unit 17 and inserted a master override tool alongside the brass key I had handed her. "You don't fake a corpse, Julian. You substitute one."
The metal door groaned upward, releasing a wave of chilled air that smelled faintly of ozone, old paper, and antiseptic. Inside, the unit wasn't packed with furniture or old boxes. Instead, it was a high-tech command center. Rows of glowing monitors cast a pale blue light across a wall covered in surveillance feeds, newspaper clippings, and financial charts dating back decades.
And right in the center of the room sat a leather swivel chair, facing away from us.
"Who is that?" I whispered, taking a step backward.
"Someone who has been dead for twenty years," Miller replied.
May you like
The chair slowly spun around. My breath caught in my throat. Sitting there, looking older, thinner, but unmistakably alive, was a man I had buried less than an hour ago.
Raymond Mercer smiled faintly. "I'm glad you didn't go home, son. We have a lot to talk about, and the people hunting us are already twenty minutes away."
