six | black operation

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𝚜𝚒𝚡 | 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

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𝚜𝚒𝚡 | 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

I've been inside Archer's apartment anytime that he isn't here. I had no time to waste. A lot of searching through Archer's apartment hasn't been helpful. There's got to be something in this apartment that I'm missing. 

Other than three safes, this apartment is normal. There are no false walls, trap doors, loose floorboards, or desks with false bottoms. It's almost as if the Hawthorne's have nothing to hide. That's not possible! Everyone on earth has something to hide. To of that list would include two scientists that work for the F.B.I. 

The last room to check is Archer Hawthorne's.

Looking in Archer's room made me wonder, how many of these things could be stolen?

Archer Hawthorne has a sealed juvenile record for breaking and entering and of course, stealing.

"Alright, Pumpkin King, you're a nobody in your parents' work life. These people wouldn't think to search your room for answers," I said to myself. "Subject 1031, lead me to the answers."

I started looking on the surface of the room. It's average. Navy blue walls, black furniture, a clean workspace, clothes on the floor. His bed is unmade. No interest in sports. Empty water bottles on his nightstand.

The walls are somewhat empty. Nothing hung from his walls except for his framed high school graduation diploma, and a plaque dedicated to the New York Rangers hockey team.

Archer Hawthorne has zero interest in sports. Archer Hawthorne was a delinquent in high school. He never found a passion for sports. He was too busy breaking into stores and stealing clothes.

I stood on a chair to search the top of the plaque. Dust rested on top of the plaque. Archer hasn't touched this for years. It's bolted into the wall.

I don't think Archer put this plaque on his wall. He wouldn't bolt it into the wall because he has no interest in hockey. His mom had a picture of him at a hockey game when he was a kid, William's office had a display case full of signed hockey pucks, and now Archer's room has a hockey souvenir.

His parents must've put this in his room.

Behind the plaque, a small safe with a number dial was in front of my face. Inspecting the safe, nothing out of the ordinary. The only peculiar thing about the safe is that the name–Abbey–is etched into the metal underneath the number dial.

"Who the hell is Abbey?" I asked myself.

The name Abbey has never come up in my research into the Hawthorne's. There is a minimal number of female family members on both sides. Also, I have a list of names of people who have worked for the Hawthorne's through the FBI for the last fifteen years. No one is named Abbey.

Abbey?

The name is irrelevant. There isn't a single Abigail or Abby or even Abi listed in my research. If Maya and William set up this safe, then the name means something.

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