Chapter 2 - The Voice That Named Elena’s Father

Lucian entered his private study.

Alone.

He locked the door.

Then placed the second cassette into an old player.

For several seconds.

Nothing.

Static.

A breath.

Then his father’s voice.

Older.

Weak.

But clear.

“Lucian.”

He froze.

“I do not know when you will hear this.”

A cough.

“If Patrick kept his word, I am already gone.”

Lucian sat down slowly.

His father continued.

“There are three things you need to know.”

Lucian closed his eyes.

“First.”

“Your uncle Marc was not the first man to betray me.”

Silence.

“Second.”

“Thomas Vane saved my life.”

Lucian looked toward the door.

Elena’s father.

The voice continued.

“And third.”

A long pause.

“Thomas Vane also destroyed it.”

Lucian’s eyes opened.

He rewound.

Played it again.

THOMAS VANE ALSO DESTROYED IT.

Lucian stood.

He unlocked the door.

Patrick waited outside.

So did Elena.

Her father stood at the end of the hallway.

Lucian held up the cassette.

“Come in.”

No one moved.

Lucian looked at Thomas Vane.

“Especially you.”

They entered.

The door locked again.

Lucian pressed play.

His father’s voice filled the room.

Thomas Vane lowered his eyes.

Elena whispered:

“Dad.”

Lucian stopped the tape.

“What did he mean?”

Thomas did not answer.

Lucian stepped closer.

“He said you saved his life.”

“Yes.”

“And destroyed it.”

Thomas closed his eyes.

“Yes.”

“How?”

Patrick looked uncomfortable.

Thomas said:

“I gave him the false death plan.”

Lucian stared.

“The car explosion.”

“Yes.”

“The empty coffin.”

“Yes.”

“The new identity.”

“Yes.”

Lucian’s jaw tightened.

“Then what did you destroy?”

Thomas looked at him.

“His chance to come home.”

Silence.

Lucian waited.

Thomas continued.

“After the explosion, your father wanted to disappear for six months.”

“Six months.”

“Yes.”

“He believed the leak could be identified quickly.”

Lucian laughed once.

“He stayed gone fourteen years.”

Thomas nodded.

“Because I made a decision.”

Lucian’s face hardened.

“What decision?”

“I told the agency he could never contact you again.”

Elena went pale.

“Dad.”

Lucian did not look at her.

“Why?”

Thomas reached into his jacket.

A sealed photograph.

He placed it on the desk.

Lucian picked it up.

A boy.

Eight years old.

Lucian.

Leaving school.

Beside him stood Marc Morel.

Lucian’s uncle.

Across the street.

A black sedan.

Thomas pointed to the windshield.

A man with a camera.

“Marc had you watched.”

Lucian stared.

“You knew?”

“Yes.”

“Then remove Marc.”

“It was not that simple.”

“It usually is when someone threatens a child.”

Thomas flinched.

Lucian continued.

“What else?”

Thomas placed another photograph down.

Lucian’s father.

Alive.

Standing outside a Prague apartment.

Date stamped thirteen years earlier.

Someone had circled the doorway in red.

Thomas said:

“Two weeks after he entered protection, this was delivered to us.”

Lucian looked at the back.

One sentence.

WE CAN REACH THE SON.

Lucian’s face emptied.

Thomas continued.

“We knew the leak was still active.”

“Marc.”

“We suspected Marc.”

“You suspected?”

“We did not have proof.”

Lucian looked at Patrick.

Patrick said:

“Your father wanted to come back anyway.”

Lucian stared.

“He wanted me.”

“Yes.”

Thomas whispered:

“I stopped him.”

Lucian’s voice became quiet.

“You had no right.”

“I know.”

“You made me believe he was dead.”

“Yes.”

“You made him watch my life through photographs.”

“Yes.”

“You made Elena keep the truth from me.”

Thomas looked at his daughter.

“No.”

Elena shook her head.

“He did not.”

Lucian turned.

“What?”

She swallowed.

“I made that decision myself.”

Silence.

Lucian stared at her.

Thomas said:

“Elena found the file ten months ago.”

Lucian looked back at her.

“You were not told?”

“No.”

“You discovered it.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“My father was hospitalized.”

Thomas looked away.

Elena continued.

“I went into his office looking for insurance papers.”

“You found my father.”

“A file marked Morel.”

Lucian’s voice tightened.

“And then?”

“I confronted him.”

Thomas said:

“I told her the truth.”

Lucian stared at Elena.

“And you decided I should not know.”

She cried.

“Yes.”

“Because?”

“Because your father was dying.”

Lucian’s face changed.

“What?”

Elena whispered:

“He had weeks.”

Patrick looked down.

Lucian stared.

“You knew I had weeks to speak to him.”

“Yes.”

“And you still said nothing.”

Elena’s tears fell.

“I was afraid you would go to Prague.”

“I would have.”

“I was afraid Marc would follow you.”

Lucian looked toward the ballroom.

His uncle was still somewhere in the house.

Elena continued.

“I thought if your father died naturally, the danger would finally end.”

Lucian said nothing.

Then pressed play again.

His father’s voice returned.

“Thomas believes silence will protect Lucian.”

A weak laugh.

“He may be right.”

Thomas closed his eyes.

“But if he is wrong, Lucian must know that Thomas never betrayed me to Marc.”

Lucian looked at Thomas.

The recording continued.

“He betrayed me to fear.”

Thomas lowered his head.

Lucian stopped the tape.

No one moved.

Patrick whispered:

“There is more.”

Lucian looked at him.

“How much more?”

Patrick reached into the folder.

A third cassette.

Lucian laughed once.

Cold.

“You brought an archive.”

Patrick did not smile.

“This one is not your father.”

“Whose voice?”

Patrick looked toward the locked door.

“Your uncle’s.”

Lucian stared.

Patrick placed the cassette on the desk.

“Recorded three days before the car explosion.”

Lucian did not touch it.

“What does he say?”

Patrick answered:

“He orders someone to kill your father.”

Silence.

Elena’s father closed his eyes.

Lucian looked toward the hallway.

Then at Patrick.

“Where is Marc now?”

Patrick’s face changed.

“Not in the ballroom.”

Lucian immediately unlocked the study.

Security stood outside.

Lucian asked:

“My uncle?”

One guard checked his phone.

Then looked up.

“His car left five minutes ago.”

Lucian’s eyes sharpened.

“Destination?”

“We do not know.”

Patrick went pale.

Lucian looked at him.

“What?”

Patrick whispered:

“The first tape was not the only thing I brought tonight.”

Lucian stared.

“What else?”

Patrick opened his empty folder.

Nothing inside.

“A key.”

Lucian’s expression hardened.

“To what?”

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Patrick answered:

“Your father’s final safe house.”