The Truth Buried Deep Inside My Father’s Empty New Jersey Coffin
I looked like a stranger.
The uniform I wore felt like a costume from a life I had already left behind.
I drove south on Interstate 95, keeping my speed exactly five miles over the limit.
I could not afford to get pulled over by a state trooper now.
My phone buzzed in the cup holder.
The screen showed an restricted number.
I hesitated, then pressed the speaker button.
“Natalie,” a voice said.
It was not Caroline.
It was Harlan Voss.
His voice was dry, flat, and entirely devoid of urgency.
“Colonel,” Voss said. “You have caused a significant disruption in the northern sector.”
“The northern sector is dead, Voss,” I said.
“Nothing is dead until I say it is,” he replied. “Your mother has already contacted me.”
“She’s trapped in the bunker,” I said. “And the data is gone.”
“The data is never gone,” Voss said. “It is merely misplaced.”
“I have the encryption keys,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “And you are currently traveling south on ninety-five.”
I glanced at the mirrors, searching the dark highway behind me for headlights.