The footsteps passing by just outside the room have me even more on edge, but my blood pressure slowly goes down as the sounds fade out, leaving me with my thoughts again.
I hadn't been able to let it go. Of course I couldn't. He couldn't expect me to.
Finding out Keegan was somehow involved and tangled up with some shit from my past wasn't something to just 'let go', no matter how much he'd beg me not to look into it.
Seeing that picture of him with my father was like nearing the end of the puzzle, only to find out you're missing one piece. I could remember some bits and pieces, some faint memories of having played with a boy just a little above my age. Those piercing blue eyes were recognizable, even after not having seen him in a little more than ten years.
I continue to rummage through the endless drawers of files, my frustration growing with each passing second. The office is a maze of dusty cabinets, a labyrinth of secrets and stories that remain untold.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I stumble upon a file labeled "Keegan Russ."
My heart races as I pull it out, expecting to find a treasure trove of information about his time at my old base, about his connection to my past. But as I begin to read, my hope dwindles.
The file is disappointingly ordinary.
It details Keegan's service record, his deployments, and commendations, but there's nothing that ties him to my old base, nothing that hints at our shared history. According to this file, he has never been stationed there.
That's impossible.
Had it been falsified?
There's no doubt in my mind that Keegan has been at that base, that he has known my family, that he has been a part of my life in some way.
But here, in black and white, it seems as though he has never set foot on those grounds.
I close the file, my mind racing with questions and doubts.
Why would someone go to the trouble of falsifying Keegan's service record?
What are they trying to hide?
Who has the power and influence to manipulate military records in such a way?
Did he do it himself?
A sense of unease settles over me as I realize that I'm wading into dangerous waters. I quickly put the file back in its place, trying to leave no trace of my intrusion, and make my way out of the office before anyone notices.
As I walk away from that room filled with secrets, my mind is left with more questions than when I entered. But one thing is clear—This only makes me want to dig deeper.
~~~
Passing Canmoore's office, my senses prick with awareness as I feel the tracking device concealed beneath my watch's wristbands. I discreetly adjust it, not wanting to arouse any suspicion.
Price had allowed me to go to my old base once again, as I needed to keep Canmoore from growing suspicious even more. And even though the man wasn't one to check on my whereabouts every hour of the day, it was hard to be gone.
Especially with the others running around the base.
Since my return, people have grown increasingly wary of me, forcing me to be more cautious than ever. I can't do stupid shit. I can't go digging into stuff that's not my business anymore.
Before I follow my own advice, though, I feel compelled to investigate our own files, hoping to find any trace of Keegan. Carter's footsteps echo alongside mine as we traverse dimly lit corridors. He's been keeping a close eye on recent developments, especially those involving me.
Rumors had been spreading through the base like wildfire, but no one dares confront me directly.
Through it all, there's only one person who I could count on. Just Carter. It had always been just him and I, ever since we grew up together. I didn't mind. I didn't need anyone else but him.
"Here," Carter says, bringing us to a discreetly concealed door. "Everything is in here."
"Perfect. You can get in?" I ask.
Carter grins mischievously, swiping a concealed card against the reader. The door yields silently. "Befriending some guards has its perks," he remarks. "Now, let's be quick. We don't want to raise any more suspicions."
I nod, and we step inside the room. It's far less pristine than 141's file storage, with black drawers, cabinets, and a thick layer of dust. Fortunately, the files are alphabetically organized, and I head straight for the K section.
But as I somehow expected yet tried to not think about, there's no sign of Keegan's name — no files, no documents, nothing connecting him to my past. My frustration bubbles to the surface once more.
"What exactly are we looking for?" Carter inquires, following me through the door. "Give me a name, and I'll help."
I shake my head subtly as I turn to him. "He changed his name."
Carter furrows his brow, deep in thought. "That's.. even more suspicious."
"I know," I sigh in frustration, searching my pockets until I find an old photograph. Carter anticipates my intent, producing a flashlight to illuminate the picture when I offer it to him.
"Tell me you recognize him," I implore.
Carter taps his feet, and I can immediately tell he's thinking. "Fuck, he looks so familiar.."
"I know," I sigh. "I can't remember what they used to call him."
"—Callum Hayes," Carter says without a second thought.
My eyes widen for a split second. "You're a genius and I love you," I say. I return my attention to the cabinets, my fingers moving with purpose as I search for any mention of that name.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of scanning folders, my hand lands on one marked "Callum Hayes." I pull it out, my heart pounding with anticipation. This is it. I've found something.
I open the file, and the contents reveal a trove of information. Photographs, documents, and records spill out onto the dusty cabinet. There's a sense of urgency as I start sifting through the materials, eager to uncover the truth about him and his connection to my past.
The photographs show a younger Keegan, his face both familiar and distant, captured in candid moments. It's clear that he had been a part of my life in some way, but the details remain elusive.
I find a document detailing his assignments, deployments, and covert operations, including a mention of my old base. It confirms what I already knew — Keegan had been there. But then something catches my eye, a date on one of the documents.
The last date on the documents.
"Look at this, Carter," I say, my voice steady. "The records just stop abruptly. There's no explanation, no reason given. It's like he vanished from the system."
Carter leans in, studying the documents. "That's strange. It's as if he ceased all operations and disappeared."
A heavy silence descends upon us as we both come to the same realization — Keegan had fled.
But why? Why had he abruptly abandoned his duties, his past?
I knew growing up at the base was hard, but I didn't know any better. Never in my military career had I thought to flee.
As I ponder the unanswered questions, a multitude of possibilities flood my mind. Had he been in danger? Had he discovered something that compelled him to leave? Or had he simply chosen to disappear, leaving behind everything he knew?
Carter and I exchange a meaningful glance, our thoughts entwined, but as I want to open my mouth to speak, I'm interrupted by a loud bang outside in the hallway.
"—Get out, now," Carter says, "I'll close off."
Quickly, I shove Keegan's, Callum's file underneath my gear, making sure nothing peeks out before I slip out of the room. Running a hand through my hair, I gather my acting skills to make it seem like I was just walking past.
Everything seems to go well, but when I turn a corner, he's there.
Canmoore stands imperiously in the middle of the lit hallway, engaged in a conversation with one of his numerous subordinates. The harsh lighting casts an eerie pallor over his face, rendering his hair an icy white and draining the color from his skin. His eyes, the deepest shade of obsidian, create menacing shadows that intensify the eerie atmosphere.
He appears more like a walking corpse than a living being.
If only...
"Alex," he suddenly utters my name, slicing through the ambient silence with a voice that could cut through steel. I'm jolted back to his presence, my heart pounding in my chest not from fear, but from pure rage.
"Sir," I respond with rigid composure, straightening my back and subtly concealing my hands beneath the tactical gear to ensure the file remains secure.
"I've been contemplating some changes," he continues, his tone devoid of warmth or empathy, as if discussing matters of life and death. "Security measures, to be precise."
My throat constricts as I inquire, "What do you mean, sir?"
Canmoore's features remain impassive, his cold facade revealing no emotion. "The chips," he murmurs, his words hanging heavily in the air like a looming storm. "We've conducted enough tests, wouldn't you agree? I believe it's time for the workers to receive one."
The gravity of his words weighs on me like a leaden shroud. The chips — instruments of control and surveillance — to be implanted in the very bodies of the workers? The implications are both sinister and chilling.
This can't be good.
I open my mouth, ready to protest, to give him any reason not to proceed with such a dreadful plan. "Sir, there must be another way," I manage to say, my voice trembling. "Implanting the chips in us—it's too extreme. We have others for that. The criminals.."
Canmoore's face remains an impenetrable fortress of cold resolve, and he cuts me off with a tone that brooks no opposition. "I've made up my mind, Alex."
The finality of his words hangs in the air like a death sentence. The realization that he had already decided my fate leaves me with a chilling sense of helplessness.
"I'm sorry, my dear Alex," he adds, his voice taking on a sinister edge, "but this is just for your safety." A cold smile curls up on his lips, revealing a darkness that I had never fully comprehended.
Shit.
Fear courses through me, but before I can react, a guard emerges from the shadows behind him. They move with swift precision, restraining me in a vice-like grip as another guard approaches, holding an oh-so-familiar injector gun.
Panic surges through my veins, and I try to yell, to resist, but no sounds escape my constricted throat. I struggle against the iron grip, but my vision narrows, and everything fades to black.
In those last moments of consciousness, as the world slips away, the only thought that pierces through the darkness is of Soap, the annoying Scot who will have no idea why I'm not back at the time we said.
The realization gnaws at me, and even though I've never in my life felt guilty, the emotion suddenly feels all too familiar.
A/N
Ahhh I'm honestly proud of the plot I've got planned and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I am. That being said, you may remember me saying this story won't be as long as Phantom which is still the case. I'm thinking we're currently at the 40% mark! Just so you'll know what to expect.
Thank you loves <3