Chapter 27 - THE NAMES THAT COULD NOT BE BURIED
Smoke filled the archive room.
The main exit sealed before Commander Keene reached it.
Ethan pointed toward a ventilation shaft above the servers.
“Maintenance access.”
We lifted Amelia first. Her wound had reopened, and blood soaked through the bandage around her waist.
Keene climbed after her.
I forced Shaw toward the opening.
She laughed.
“You’re saving me?”
“You’re going to stand trial.”
“That archive implicates people who will never permit a trial.”
“Then they’ll have to expose themselves stopping it.”
The transmission indicator reached seventy-two percent.
Flames climbed the damaged server cabinet.
Ethan remained beneath the vent, watching the upload.
“Go!” I shouted.
“Not until it finishes.”
“Seventy percent is enough.”
“No. The final files contain the victim list.”
The fire suppression system released chemical foam, but the damaged electrical lines kept burning.
Eighty-five percent.
Ninety-one.
Shaw kicked backward and struck me in the knee. She lunged toward the destruction panel.
Amelia, already inside the ventilation shaft, reached down and grabbed Shaw’s hair.
“Not this time,” she said.
Keene pulled Shaw upward.
The upload reached one hundred percent.
Ethan climbed into the shaft as an explosion tore through the server row.
I followed him seconds before the archive room disappeared beneath fire and steel.
We emerged behind the memorial into cold morning rain.
Federal vehicles surrounded the grounds. News helicopters circled overhead.
The transmission could no longer be contained.
Within an hour, warrants were issued across six states. Senator Rourke was detained while attempting to board a private aircraft. Twelve defense contractors were arrested. Three intelligence officials resigned before federal agents reached their offices.
Sheriff Vance agreed to cooperate after learning Shaw had ordered his death.
General Miller entered a formal plea arrangement in exchange for testimony against the surviving network.
Ethan and I stood before the memorial.
He touched the carved version of his name.
“They made us mourn people who were still alive,” he said.
“And buried crimes beneath people who were dead.”
A military officer approached carrying a chisel and a replacement marble plate.
“Captain Ethan Logan,” he said, “we’ve received authorization to remove your name.”
Ethan looked at me.
For the first time, his smile held no secrets.
Then Commander Keene’s phone rang.
Her expression darkened as she listened.
“What happened?” I asked.
May you like
She lowered the phone.
“Senator Rourke never reached the detention facility.”
