Chapter 22 - The Founder
Rain began striking the terminal windows as dark clouds rolled over the airport. Thunder echoed in the distance, and for the first time that morning the crowded terminal felt strangely quiet.
Marcus entered the interview room alone.
Victor looked up without speaking.
Marcus placed a photocopy of Daniel's note on the table.
"What does Credential 001 mean?"
Victor glanced at it only briefly.
"I wondered when you'd find that."
"So you know."
"I know enough."
Marcus leaned forward.
"Who was the founder?"
Victor smiled faintly.
"You're asking the wrong person."
Marcus remained calm.
"Then tell me who I should ask."
Victor's eyes shifted toward the inspection room.
"The old man."
"Arthur?"
Victor nodded.
"He was there before Daniel."
Marcus studied Victor's expression carefully.
"You've lied about almost everything today."
"I have."
"Why should I believe you now?"
Victor sighed.
"Because this answer doesn't help me."
Outside the room, Dana called Marcus over the radio.
"We've finished restoring another section of the airport archive."
Marcus stepped back into the inspection room.
"What did you find?"
The technician projected a restored surveillance image onto the monitor.
It wasn't from today.
It was dated exactly twelve years earlier.
The footage showed Rebecca Lawson leaving her office late at night carrying a metal case identical to the one Eleanor had kept inside the gray suitcase.
A few seconds later, another person entered the frame.
The image was blurred.
The face couldn't be identified.
But one detail stood out immediately.
The person wasn't following Rebecca.
Rebecca was following them.
Marcus stared at the screen.
"Pause."
The technician froze the frame.
Rebecca's expression wasn't fearful.
It was determined.
As if she had chosen to follow the mysterious figure voluntarily.
Arthur slowly approached the monitor.
His face turned pale.
"I know that silhouette."
Marcus looked at him.
"Who is it?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he pointed toward the blurred figure's left hand.
A large signet ring reflected the hallway lights.
Arthur whispered,
"There was only one person who wore that ring."
Marcus asked quietly,
"Who?"
May you like
Arthur met his eyes.
"The person we believed died before any of this began."
