Chapter 7 - The Voice on the Dead Line
Nobody moved toward the phone.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Daniel’s brother stared at it as if it had come alive.
“That line is cut at the wall.”
Jack crossed the garage.
A thin new wire ran beneath the desk.
Someone had installed it before they arrived.
He lifted the receiver without speaking.
Static whispered through the line.
Then a woman breathed his name.
“Jack.”
His fingers tightened.
Emily watched his face.
The voice was older, rougher, weakened by distance or injury.
But he knew it.
Sarah.
He had listened to that voice through fifteen years of marriage.
He had heard it laugh in dark kitchens and tremble in hospital corridors. He had heard it say goodbye before every deployment.
He had heard it for the last time in a voicemail sent hours before her car went off a mountain road.
Jack could not force air into his lungs.
“Sarah?”
The line went quiet.
Then she whispered, “Don’t bring Duke to Terminal Nine.”
Jack closed his eyes.
No one had called her Sarah the way he did in private.
Softening the second syllable.
A small habit that had never appeared in official records.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who has you?”
“They’re listening.”
Jack glanced around the garage.
Duke stood beneath the desk, ears forward.
“Give me something only you would know.”
A strained breath crossed the line.
“Your left hand shakes when you’re angry, not when you’re afraid.”
Jack looked down.
His left hand was trembling.
Sarah continued.
“You blamed Duke for the scar on my kitchen door. It was me. I dropped the cast-iron pan and lied because you had just finished sanding it.”
Jack’s knees nearly weakened.
No one else knew.
“Sarah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For letting you bury me.”
The line cracked.
A mechanical sound rose behind her.
A door.
Footsteps.
Her voice became urgent.
“The capsule was planted by someone trying to help you. The film was altered afterward. Do not trust the message on the back.”
“Was it you in my apartment?”
“No.”
“Is Elias alive?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Emily inhaled sharply.
Jack turned slightly away from the others.
“Who is the hooded man?”
“I don’t know his current name. He worked under Vale.”
“Does Vale have you?”
Sarah’s breathing changed.
Not fear.
Pain.
“Vale thinks Duke remembers where the Ledger is.”
“What Ledger?”
“The record of everyone Northstar sold.”
The footsteps behind her came closer.
Jack heard a man’s voice in the distance.
Sarah lowered hers.
“Duke wasn’t trained only to detect explosives. Elias trained him to follow encoded scent markers. The metal rings carry one.”
Jack looked down at Duke.
The dog’s amber eyes held his.
“Where does the trail lead?”
“To the person who betrayed your unit.”
“Vale?”
Sarah did not answer.
The footsteps stopped beside her.
“Jack, listen carefully. Someone with you is transmitting.”
His eyes moved across Emily, Noah, Daniel, and Daniel’s brother.
No phones.
No visible devices.
“Who?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Sarah—”
“Do not go to Terminal Nine.”
A hard impact sounded.
Sarah gasped.
Then a man took the receiver.
His voice was calm.
Educated.
Familiar.
“Your wife always did underestimate your loyalty to the dog.”
Jack’s jaw locked.
“Elias.”
A quiet laugh.
“You remember me.”
“You were declared dead.”
“So was Sarah.”
“Where is she?”
“Closer than you think.”
Jack’s gaze moved toward the garage doors.
Duke suddenly turned.
Not toward the entrance.
Toward Emily.
Her pale-green scrubs were still damp from the rain.
A tiny black thread showed along the inside of her collar.
Jack stepped toward her.
Emily raised both hands.
“What?”
Duke sniffed near her shoulder.
Then sat.
Jack pinched the black thread and pulled.
A device smaller than a grain of rice came free from the seam.
Emily stared at it.
“I didn’t put that there.”
Elias spoke through the receiver.
“No. I did.”
May you like
The garage lights went out.
In the darkness, someone unlocked the rear door from inside.
