Chapter 9 - The Lie Arthur Beckett Had Been Keeping
Victor moved before Hale finished speaking.
The basement erupted into darkness and noise.
Arthur shot the emergency light.
Victor pulled Harper behind the concrete wall.
Security teams converged from the garage.
Hale's men fired into the corridor.
Harper pressed both hands over her ears.
Victor kept his body between her and the opening.
Seconds felt like minutes.
Then Arthur shouted.
“Move!”
Victor grabbed Harper's hand.
They ran through the maintenance corridor.
Behind them, security officers intercepted Hale.
By the time they reached the elevator, Victor's shirt was torn at the shoulder and blood darkened Arthur's sleeve.
Harper saw it.
“You're hurt.”
“Scratch.”
“That is not a scratch.”
“It is if you've had worse.”
Victor pressed the elevator button.
Harper stared at him.
“Did Hale get away?”
Arthur's silence answered.
“With the drive?”
“Yes.”
Victor's expression remained unnervingly calm.
Harper understood why.
The calmer he looked, the angrier he was.
Back upstairs, a medic treated Arthur.
Victor stood near the window.
Harper approached him.
“You gave them the key for me.”
Victor didn't turn.
“Yes.”
“You didn't hesitate.”
“No.”
“You don't even know what's on that ledger.”
“I don't care.”
“You've spent eleven years protecting everything you've built.”
Victor finally looked at her.
“And?”
“And you gave away the one thing that might destroy it.”
His eyes held hers.
“You were standing in front of a gun.”
Harper's voice softened.
“Victor.”
“You were more important.”
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Arthur's phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
Then frowned.
Victor noticed.
“What?”
“Hale didn't leave through the garage.”
“How?”
“Someone opened the old service tunnel from inside the security network.”
Victor looked at Arthur.
“Who has access?”
“Three people.”
“Names.”
Arthur hesitated.
“Me. You.”
“And?”
Arthur said nothing.
Victor stepped closer.
“Arthur.”
“Your father.”
Harper frowned.
“He's dead.”
Arthur nodded.
“His credentials aren't.”
Victor's eyes narrowed.
“Someone has been using Elias Gallow's legacy account.”
“Since when?”
Arthur checked.
“Six months.”
Harper's stomach tightened.
“That's when Mercer started consulting for BrightLine.”
Arthur nodded.
Victor looked toward the computer.
“Trace every login.”
They discovered the account had accessed personnel files.
Security schedules.
Freight maps.
Victor's private calendar.
And one file repeatedly.
Arthur Beckett's employment record.
Victor looked at him.
“Why?”
Arthur's expression hardened.
“I don't know.”
Harper noticed something.
“What's missing?”
Both men looked at her.
“The account keeps searching Arthur's record. Why?”
She looked at Arthur.
“What would Vane want to know?”
Arthur slowly stood.
“My father's death report.”
Victor frowned.
“What about it?”
Arthur's face went pale.
“The body was never recovered.”
Silence.
Harper whispered, “You said your father died.”
“He did.”
“You saw it?”
“No.”
Arthur stared into the distance.
“There was an explosion at Northline's river warehouse. Police declared him dead.”
Victor understood before Harper did.
“You don't know.”
Arthur shook his head.
“No.”
The room went silent.
Arthur had spent nine years believing his father was murdered by Malcolm Vane.
But if Samuel Beckett survived—
Everything changed.
They searched old records.
Three hours later, facial recognition found a possible match from security footage.
The man in the gray coat.
The one who photographed Harper.
Arthur stared at the image.
Older.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
But unmistakable.
His father.
Alive.
Arthur sat down.
Victor watched him.
For once, Harper saw Arthur's control disappear.
“He's alive.”
Victor said nothing.
Arthur looked sick.
“He let me believe he was dead.”
Harper understood the pain behind those words.
Victor did too.
Because Victor knew fathers who weaponized silence.
Arthur's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then an old man's voice.
“Hello, son.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“Where are you?”
“Trying to keep you alive.”
“You disappeared for seventeen years.”
“I had to.”
“No.”
Arthur's voice cracked.
“You chose to.”
Victor looked away, giving him what little privacy the room could offer.
Samuel continued.
“Vane didn't kill me.”
Arthur swallowed.
“Who did?”
A pause.
“Elias Gallow tried.”
Victor turned.
Arthur stared at him.
Harper stopped breathing.
Samuel continued.
“Victor's father wasn't protecting anyone. He created Route Seventeen to control all of us.”
Victor's face emptied.
Arthur whispered, “You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“Then why come back now?”
“Because Vane finally found the key.”
Arthur looked at Victor.
“You're with Vane?”
“No.”
“Then who are you with?”
Samuel's answer came quietly.
“Myself.”
The line died.
Victor stood motionless.
Harper watched him.
His father had been dead for years.
Yet Elias Gallow continued reaching into Victor's life, rearranging the truth.
Arthur looked devastated.
“I didn't know.”
Victor believed him.
That realization came immediately.
“I know.”
Arthur looked up.
For nine years, neither man had said anything resembling affection.
Victor placed one hand briefly on Arthur's shoulder.
“We find him.”
Arthur nodded.
Then Harper noticed Victor's computer screen.
The stolen flash drive had activated.
A remote system alert appeared.
KEY ACCEPTED.
Below it, coordinates loaded.
Not South Yard.
Not Warehouse 214.
Not Goose Island.
Gallow Tower.
Floor forty-two.
Victor stared.
Somewhere inside his own office, the real ledger had been hidden for years.
May you like
And Malcolm Vane now knew exactly where to look.
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