Chapter 4 - The File Mercer Said Never Existed
Ellis was alive.
Base security found him outside his apartment building seven minutes after the call dropped.
His front door had been forced.
The bedroom had been searched.
The desk drawers were emptied.
A wall safe had been opened without obvious damage.
Nothing expensive was missing.
Laptop still there.
Television.
Watch.
Cash.
Whoever entered wanted information.
Ross and I arrived after the scene was secured.
Ellis sat on the steps outside.
He looked at my bruised cheek.
“I heard about the mess hall.”
“Talk about Mercer.”
He looked toward Ross.
“Not here.”
We moved into a secured vehicle.
Ellis rubbed both hands over his face.
“Five months ago, Harbor Consulting submitted an earlier version of the contract you eventually reviewed.”
“I never saw an earlier version.”
“I know.”
“Who reviewed it?”
“Mercer.”
Ross spoke.
“Captain Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He flagged it before procurement entered it into the normal review channel.”
“Why?”
“He said the company was connected to a sensitive interagency project.”
I frowned.
“Was it?”
“I couldn’t verify that.”
“Did you ask?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He told me verification was above my clearance.”
Ross gave a humorless laugh.
“Convenient.”
Ellis continued.
“Then Harbor resubmitted under a modified scope three months later. That’s the version your team rejected.”
“So Mercer knew about them before me.”
“Yes.”
“Why tell you to destroy the first file?”
“He said duplicate proposal materials created a records problem.”
“And you believed that?”
“For about a day.”
“What changed?”
“I read the appendices.”
Ellis looked at me.
“They weren’t proposing ordinary data analysis.”
“What were they proposing?”
“A behavioral-response model.”
“For recruits?”
“For command personnel.”
My skin prickled.
“What kind of responses?”
“Stress thresholds. Aggression. Decision-making under humiliation. Public confrontation.”
The mess hall.
Jake taking my food.
Ethan slapping me.
A camera positioned to capture my response.
“That was a field test.”
Ellis nodded slowly.
“I think so.”
Ross asked, “Why target Sarah?”
“Because she rejected Harbor.”
“That’s revenge.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Ellis reached into his jacket.
Security immediately reacted.
He froze.
“It’s paper.”
He slowly produced a folded photocopy.
“I kept one page.”
Ross took it.
The heading read:
BEHAVIORAL VALIDATION COHORT — ALPHA.
Beneath it were seven identifiers.
Not names.
Codes.
One had been handwritten beside mine.
SM-34.
My initials.
My age.
I continued downward.
Expected triggers:
Public disrespect.
Physical boundary violation.
Authority ambiguity.
Peer audience.
Food contamination/humiliation.
I felt a cold wave move through me.
This morning had followed the list almost exactly.
Ross pointed to another code.
RH-48.
His initials.
His age.
“You’re on it too.”
Ellis nodded.
“Benton is LB-45.”
“Captain Mercer?”
“No.”
I searched.
Nothing resembling William Mercer.
“He’s not part of the test group.”
“No.”
“Who approved the cohort?”
“The signature page was missing.”
I looked at Ellis.
“You told nobody?”
“I confronted Mercer.”
“What did he say?”
“That the document was theoretical.”
“And told you to destroy it.”
“Yes.”
“Why keep this page?”
“Because I stopped believing him.”
Ross asked, “Why use your credentials to disable the camera today?”
“I didn’t.”
“Who could?”
“Anyone with access to my token.”
“Where is it?”
“Missing.”
Ellis searched his pocket automatically.
“I noticed after the break-in.”
Ross and I exchanged a look.
“If the token was stolen tonight, it couldn’t have been used this morning.”
Ellis froze.
“That means somebody had a copy.”
My phone vibrated.
Digital forensics.
They had opened another file on Jake’s storage card.
ALARM RESPONSE.
It contained a timing chart.
0632 — CAMERA OFF.
0640 — MITCHELL ENTERS.
0646 — CONTACT.
0648 — NETWORK TRIPWIRE.
0649 — FACILITY ALARM.
The “security breach” and my harassment had been coordinated to happen within minutes of each other.
Then I saw the final line.
0650 — OBSERVE SUBJECT PRIORITY CHOICE.
Ross leaned over.
“Priority choice?”
I understood.
“They wanted to see what I did after the alarm.”
“Meaning?”
“Whether I pursued the recruits who assaulted me or abandoned the confrontation to respond to the security breach.”
Ellis stared at me.
“This wasn’t just about making you angry.”
“No.”
Someone was evaluating how I chose between personal threat and mission responsibility.
My phone buzzed again.
A new recovered note.
RESULT: SUBJECT FAILED TO ESCALATE.
REPEAT WITH DEPENDENT VARIABLE.
I stared at the phrase.
“Dependent variable?”
Ross’s face changed.
“What do they mean by that?”
I already knew the answer.
Not exactly who.
But what.
Someone close enough to me to affect my decisions.
Before I could speak, the building alarm sounded.
Not the general alarm from breakfast.
A local intrusion alert.
Security personnel moved.
Ross checked the console.
“Records room.”
Ellis went pale.
“That’s where the original Harbor procurement logs are stored.”
We reached the corridor seconds later.
The records-room door stood open.
Inside, a small fire was burning in a metal trash bin.
Sprinklers had not activated.
Someone had disabled them.
Ross grabbed an extinguisher.
Security cleared the room.
On the floor beside the fire was a Navy access badge.
May you like
Captain William Mercer.
📖 See whether Captain Mercer set the records fire or was framed—and why the phrase “dependent variable” suddenly became personal in CHAPTER 5. 👇
