Chapter 77 Two Weeks Later
Cole Enterprises - 2:34 PM
I was in Adrian's office, Hope asleep in her carrier beside me, reviewing files on Subject 31 when Jennifer knocked on the door.
"Ms. Grant? There's someone here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment, but she says it's urgent. Her name is" Jennifer checked her tablet. "Dr. Rebecca Hartley. She says you knew her during your DARPA years."
I froze.
Dr. Rebecca Hartley. The name triggered something not quite a memory, more like a echo of recognition.
"Do you want me to send her away?" Jennifer asked, noticing my reaction.
"No," I said slowly. "Send her up. But Jennifer ask Marcus to be nearby. Just in case."
"Of course."
Five minutes later, a woman in her late fifties entered the office. She was striking tall, silver hair cut short, sharp eyes that assessed everything instantly. She wore a tailored suit and carried herself with the confidence of someone used to being the smartest person in any room.
"Dr. Grant," she said, extending her hand. "It's been a long time."
"Dr. Hartley," I said carefully, not taking her hand. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember you."
"I know," Dr. Hartley said, not seeming offended. She lowered her hand. "That's why I'm here. To help you remember."
"Why now?" I asked. "If we knew each other during my DARPA years, why wait until now to contact me?"
"Because until two weeks ago, I didn't know you were alive," Dr. Hartley said bluntly. "I thought you died eight years ago. During the incident."
"What incident?" I asked, my heart rate accelerating.
Dr. Hartley glanced at Hope, sleeping peacefully. "Is there somewhere we can speak privately? What I need to tell you it's not appropriate for present company."
"Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of my daughter," I said firmly. "And my partner will be joining us in" I checked the time. "about thirty seconds."
As if on cue, Adrian entered, Marcus right behind him.
"Dr. Hartley," Adrian said, his tone carefully neutral. "I'm Adrian Cole. And I'm going to need to see identification before we continue this conversation."
Dr. Hartley pulled out government credentials. Not FBI. Not DARPA.
Defense Intelligence Agency.
"I work for the DIA," Dr. Hartley said. "Specifically, the division that oversees classified human intelligence programs. Eight years ago, I was Dr. Evelyn Martinez's direct supervisor during a program known as Operation Mindbreak."
"I've never heard of Operation Mindbreak," I said.
"That's because it was classified above Top Secret," Dr. Hartley said. "And because after the incident, all records were sealed. Everyone involved was either reassigned or—" She paused meaningfully. "—eliminated from the record. When I saw you on the news six months ago, holding that baby, being identified as Dr. Evelyn Grant, I nearly had a heart attack. Because the last time I saw Evelyn Martinez, she was being loaded into an ambulance after the laboratory explosion."
"What laboratory explosion?" Adrian demanded.
"The one that was supposed to have killed her," Dr. Hartley said, looking directly at me. "Dr. Grant—Evelyn you asked what happened during those missing eighteen months. The truth is, during that time, you weren't working for DARPA. You were working for me. On a program so classified that even the Vice President didn't have clearance. A program that went catastrophically wrong. And when it did—" She took a breath. "—we were told you died. That the explosion killed you and destroyed all your research. We held a memorial service. Closed the program. Scattered the team. And we were ordered never to speak of it again."
"But I didn't die," I said slowly.
"No," Dr. Hartley confirmed. "You survived. And someone—I don't know who helped you disappear. Gave you a new identity. Enrolled you in DARPA's public research program. And ensured that no one from Operation Mindbreak would ever find you."
"Why would someone do that?" Marcus asked.
"Because," Dr. Hartley said, "during Operation Mindbreak, Dr. Martinez discovered something. Something that powerful people didn't want anyone to know. And when she tried to report it—when she tried to expose what she'd found they tried to kill her. The explosion wasn't an accident. It was an assassination attempt. And whoever saved her afterward, whoever helped her disappearthey must have known that if the truth about Operation Mindbreak came out, it would destroy careers. Possibly governments."
The room was silent.
"What did I discover?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What was Operation Mindbreak really about?"
Dr. Hartley looked at each of us in turn, as if weighing whether we could handle the truth.
Then she said five words that changed everything:
"We were creating psychic soldiers."