The project had been dead for twenty-two years. So why did its final file contain a photograph of her?
CHAPTER 4
Ethan took Nora to a motel outside Pittsburgh.
It was the kind of place where the curtains never completely closed and the ice machine sounded like it was dying.
Nora sat on the edge of the bed.
“Senator Hale.”
Ethan nodded.
“He was a junior government official when Bellwether started.”
“And now?”
“He’s been in Congress for twenty years.”
Nora looked at the photograph.
“Why would someone like him care about an abandoned project?”
“Because it wasn’t abandoned.”
The words hung between them.
Ethan opened his laptop.
“I found references to Bellwether in budget documents going back to 2011.”
Nora leaned closer.
“That’s impossible.”
“Exactly.”
He showed her several shell companies.
Different names.
Same funding source.
“Someone kept paying for the project.”
“How?”
“Private contractors.”
“Who?”
Ethan clicked another file.
“That’s where things get interesting.”
A company called Meridian Strategic Solutions appeared repeatedly.
Nora searched the name.
Her face went pale.
“Meridian works with the federal government.”
“Yes.”
“And Senator Hale?”
“He’s on their advisory board.”
Nora stared at him.
“What happened to your career?”
Ethan went quiet.
“Why?”
“Because you said you’ve been investigating this for eight years.”
He closed the laptop.
“I was a reporter.”
“What happened?”
“I published a story claiming Bellwether had never actually shut down.”
“And?”
“My source disappeared.”
Nora waited.
“They found my files in my apartment.”
“What files?”
“Evidence.”
“Was it real?”
Ethan looked at her.
“Real enough to destroy my career.”
He stood.
“I was accused of fabricating everything.”
Nora suddenly understood.
“That’s why you kept investigating.”
“No.”
He looked toward the window.
“I kept investigating because my source was my brother.”
Nora said nothing.
Ethan’s voice became quieter.
“He died three days after the story was published.”
The room went silent.
Then Nora noticed something.
A tiny red light blinking beneath the television.
She pointed.
“Is that a camera?”
Ethan turned.
His expression hardened.
He ripped the television from the wall.
Behind it was a small surveillance device.
Nora stared.
“How long has that been there?”
Ethan examined it.
“Long enough.”
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then a voice whispered:
“Ask Nora why her father kept her alive.”
The call ended.
Nora’s face went cold.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
Then his laptop screen suddenly turned black.
A new file appeared.
BELLWETHER / SUBJECT 001
Below it:
NORA BENNETT
And beneath her name was a date.
October 14, 1999.
Her birth date.
Nora stared at the screen.
“Why am I Subject 001?”
Ethan didn’t answer.
Because neither of them had noticed the final line.
Prediction status: ACTIVE.
