Chapter 6 - Someone Was Inside the Network
Ryan’s apartment looked exactly like Ashley expected and nothing like she expected.
Small.
Clean.
Practical.
A secondhand sofa sat beneath a shelf crowded with children’s books and repair manuals. A wooden dining table served as desk, homework station, and apparently electronics workshop. Lily’s drawings covered the refrigerator.
One showed Ryan with arms so large they reached his knees.
Another showed a rocket labeled DADDY’S CAR despite the fact that Ryan drove a ten-year-old pickup truck.
Ashley noticed there were almost no photographs of Ryan alone.
Every framed picture included Lily.
Or Emily.
Ryan locked the door.
Checked the windows.
Then walked toward the hallway closet.
Lily followed.
“The treasure box is up there.”
He pulled down a small wooden case decorated with hand-painted stars.
The sight of it stopped him.
Ashley stayed back.
“You recognize it.”
Ryan nodded.
“I made this for Emily when we were nineteen.”
Lily smiled.
“You made it?”
“Badly.”
“It’s pretty.”
“Your mother improved it.”
He sat at the table and opened the lid.
Photographs.
Hospital bracelets.
An old employee badge from Whitmore Global.
A folded newspaper clipping.
A dried flower sealed between two pieces of clear plastic.
Ryan touched it.
“Our wedding.”
Lily climbed beside him.
“Mom kept a flower?”
“Apparently.”
Ashley watched his face.
There are people whose grief becomes loud.
Ryan’s grief seemed to live in the careful way he touched objects.
As though every memory might break.
Under the photographs lay a folded paper map.
Ryan opened it.
A printed map of the Port Dawson terminal.
Red circles marked six buildings.
Handwritten notes covered the margins.
Ashley leaned closer.
“Emily wrote those?”
Ryan shook his head.
“Some.”
He pointed to black ink.
“This is mine.”
“When?”
“Before the accident.”
The map had been part of his development work.
He used physical diagrams when thinking through complex systems.
Emily must have found it years later.
On the back, she had written:
RYAN—
IF YOU EVER NEED THIS, YOU’LL KNOW WHICH PART IS WRONG.
I’M SORRY I DIDN’T TELL YOU.
—E
Ryan stared at the words.
Lily leaned against his arm.
“What does it mean?”
He swallowed.
“I don’t know yet.”
Ashley pointed toward one of the red circles.
“Original map.”
Ryan nodded.
“Don’t trust the original map.”
He unfolded it completely.
Then stopped.
“Wait.”
“What?”
He looked at one building.
“Warehouse Six.”
“So?”
“There was no Warehouse Six.”
Ashley frowned.
“It’s on the map.”
“That’s why it’s wrong.”
Ryan pulled out his laptop.
The Port Dawson terminal had five original warehouses when he worked there.
A sixth structure was added after the accident.
Emily could not have known that from the old map.
Unless the marking had been added later.
Ryan examined the paper against a lamp.
One red circle used different ink.
Ashley noticed.
“Someone changed it.”
“Emily.”
Ryan flipped the map.
On the back, barely visible beneath the crease, was another note.
6 = NOT A BUILDING.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed.
“What else is six?”
Lily, bored by the adult mystery, had started sorting photographs.
“Six is a number.”
Ryan looked at her.
“Very helpful.”
“You asked.”
Ashley smiled despite herself.
Then Lily pulled out the old Whitmore badge.
“Daddy, your hair was weird.”
Ashley leaned over.
Ryan was twenty-one in the photograph, clean-shaven, thinner, wearing a T-shirt under a jacket.
Ashley laughed.
Ryan looked offended.
“My hair was normal.”
“No,” Ashley said. “Lily is correct.”
“Thank you,” Lily said.
Ryan took the badge.
His smile disappeared when he turned it over.
A number had been written on the back.
60417.
Ashley leaned closer.
“Password?”
“No.”
“Date?”
“No.”
He stared.
Then he understood.
“Locker.”
“What locker?”
“At Dawson.”
His expression sharpened.
“Engineering had equipment lockers. Six-digit numbers identified secure storage.”
“That’s five digits.”
Ryan turned the badge.
A tiny scratched symbol after the final number resembled an L.
“60417L.”
Ashley asked, “What does L mean?”
“Legacy.”
He looked at the map.
“Warehouse Six isn’t a building. It’s legacy storage section six.”
A knock sounded at the door.
Ryan moved instantly.
Lily looked up.
“Daddy?”
He put one finger to his lips.
Ashley reached for her phone.
Another knock.
“Ryan?”
A familiar voice.
Ryan relaxed slightly.
Their neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez.
He opened the door only a few inches.
The elderly woman stood holding a casserole dish.
“You came home early.”
“Yes.”
“I thought Lily might want dinner before her rehearsal.”
Lily ran forward.
“Mrs. A!”
Ryan opened the door.
Ashley watched him breathe again.
This was what fear did.
It turned casseroles into threats.
Mrs. Alvarez noticed Ashley and gave Ryan a look that required no translation.
Ryan immediately said, “My boss.”
“Of course.”
Ashley smiled.
“Nice to meet you.”
Mrs. Alvarez looked unconvinced but said nothing.
After she left, Ashley’s phone buzzed.
Nathan again.
She rejected the call.
Ryan noticed.
“You should answer him eventually.”
“I will.”
“Your company still exists.”
“So does your problem.”
Ryan sat at the laptop.
Ashley looked at Lily.
“Do you have rehearsal tonight?”
Lily nodded.
“Six thirty.”
Ryan checked the clock.
Four fifty-seven.
Ashley looked at him.
“You’re going.”
He shook his head.
“Not until I know what this is.”
Lily’s face fell.
Ryan saw it.
He looked at his daughter.
Then at the map.
Then back at her.
“Bug—”
“You promised.”
Two words.
No accusation.
That made them heavier.
Ryan closed the laptop.
“You’re right.”
Ashley blinked.
“We’re going?”
“We’re going.”
“But Nolan—”
“Has controlled enough.”
Ryan folded the map and slipped it into his jacket.
“He wants me frightened enough to abandon everything else.”
Ashley understood.
“You’re not going to.”
“No.”
They arrived at the auditorium at 6:19.
Parents carried costumes and paper props through the halls.
Children ran past dressed as stars, planets, comets, and astronauts.
For twenty minutes, life became wonderfully ordinary.
Ryan helped Lily pin the cardboard moon to her costume.
Ashley sat in the back row checking messages.
Nathan had sent nine.
The latest read:
WE HAVE A SERIOUS SECURITY PROBLEM. CALL ME.
She called.
Nathan answered immediately.
“Where have you been?”
“Busy.”
“Our development environment was accessed.”
Ashley sat straighter.
“By whom?”
“We don’t know.”
“What was taken?”
“I’m still checking.”
“Was Whitmore data exposed?”
Pause.
“Ashley—”
“What was taken?”
“The Chicago demonstration package.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Who has access?”
“Engineering leadership.”
“How many people?”
“Eight.”
“Ryan?”
“No.”
Ashley looked toward the stage.
Ryan was kneeling beside Lily, fixing the tape on her moon costume.
“Send me the access logs.”
“What are you doing?”
“Send them.”
Nathan lowered his voice.
“You need to be careful with Mitchell.”
Ashley went still.
“Why?”
“I ran a deeper background search.”
“You did what?”
“He lied on his employee application.”
“No. He omitted old professional history that wasn’t required.”
“You know?”
“I do now.”
“Ashley, the guy was involved in the Port Dawson disaster.”
Her voice cooled.
“Where did you learn that?”
Silence.
Too long.
“Nathan?”
“Public records.”
“Which records?”
“I’ll send them.”
“Do that.”
She ended the call.
Ryan approached.
“What?”
Ashley showed him the message.
“Our development environment was accessed.”
“When?”
“While we were flying.”
Ryan sat beside her.
“What was stolen?”
“The Whitmore demonstration package.”
He went still.
“Nathan says eight people had access.”
“Who?”
“He’s sending logs.”
Lily called from the stage.
“Daddy!”
Ryan looked up.
She waved.
“Watch!”
He smiled and waved back.
Then his eyes returned to the phone.
A new email arrived.
Access logs attached.
Ryan read them.
Most entries looked normal.
Then he stopped.
“What?”
He enlarged one line.
“A service account.”
Ashley frowned.
“That account shouldn’t have interactive access.”
“Correct.”
“Who created it?”
Ryan scrolled.
The creator field had been removed.
But the timestamp remained.
Three years earlier.
The same month Nathan Cole joined Parker Meridian.
Ashley stared at the screen.
“That proves nothing.”
“No.”
Ryan’s voice remained calm.
“But it means your problem didn’t begin this week.”
The rehearsal music started.
Ryan put the phone facedown.
Ashley looked at him.
“You’re just going to stop?”
“For eight minutes.”
“Ryan—”
“My daughter has one line.”
He looked toward the stage.
“And I promised I would hear it.”
Ashley watched him.
Then placed her own phone facedown.
For eight minutes, neither Nolan Pierce nor Whitmore Global nor Parker Meridian mattered.
Lily stood beneath cardboard stars.
She missed her first cue.
Found it again.
Then stepped forward.
Her small voice carried through the auditorium.
“Even when the night looks empty, the light is still there.”
Ryan smiled.
Ashley unexpectedly felt tears sting her eyes.
Then every light in the auditorium went out.
Children screamed.
Parents shouted.
Emergency lights failed to activate.
Ryan stood instantly.
His phone vibrated.
One message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN CHICAGO.
May you like
And somewhere in the darkness, a side door opened.
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