Chapter 31: The Fourth Baby

The abandoned quarry felt colder.

Darker.

More dangerous.

Alex stared at David Pilka.

Trying to decide whether the man was telling the truth or manipulating him.

Neither option was comforting.

"You said there were four babies."

David nodded.

"Yes."

Alex struggled to process it.

Every document he had read.

Every revelation.

Every clue.

Everything pointed toward three children.

Sarah Waore.

The hidden child.

The child raised inside the organization.

Three.

Not four.

Yet David looked certain.

Painfully certain.

The kind of certainty that came from experience.

Not theory.

"What happened to the fourth child?"

David remained silent.

For a long moment, he simply stared toward the distant hills.

Then he spoke.

"Nobody knows."

Alex frowned.

"That's impossible."

"No."

David's voice hardened.

"Impossible is what Project Ashes specialized in."

The answer wasn't satisfying.

Alex could feel frustration rising.

People kept giving him fragments.

Half-truths.

Pieces.

Never the complete picture.

"I need details."

David sighed.

"You need survival first."

At Obadiah's safe house, Alison had finally arrived.

Unwillingly.

Reluctantly.

Complaining every step of the way.

Yet now that she sat inside the heavily protected compound, she understood why Patricia had insisted.

Security cameras covered every angle.

Patrol vehicles rotated constantly.

Armed personnel monitored entry points.

The place resembled a private military facility more than a residence.

Faith and Glen immediately ran toward her.

The tension she'd carried all morning eased slightly.

At least until Glen spoke.

"Auntie Alison."

She smiled.

"What is it?"

The boy handed her a notebook.

"I've been keeping track."

Her eyebrows rose.

"Keeping track of what?"

"Cars."

Alison blinked.

Then opened the notebook.

Her expression slowly changed.

Pages.

Pages of observations.

Vehicle descriptions.

Dates.

Partial registration numbers.

Sketches.

Patterns.

The work was surprisingly detailed.

Very detailed.

Alison looked toward Patricia.

Then back toward Glen.

The boy wasn't playing detective.

The boy had accidentally become one.

Meanwhile, Chief Inspector Bethwel Kanda's investigation had officially become a problem.

For everyone.

Another call arrived from Nairobi.

Another demand.

Another attempt to interfere.

This time Bethwel didn't answer.

He simply watched the phone ring.

Then stop.

Then ring again.

Eventually, his office door opened.

Officer Richie Keyo entered.

Bethwel's eyes narrowed.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The same Richie connected to Fiona's meetings.

The same Richie attached to Internal Security.

"Inspector."

Bethwel leaned back.

"Officer Keyo."

The younger man smiled.

Professional.

Controlled.

Artificial.

"Nairobi is concerned."

Bethwel almost laughed.

"Nairobi seems concerned about many things lately."

The smile never left Richie's face.

"They believe this investigation has become unnecessarily complicated."

There it was.

The pressure.

The warning.

The threat hidden beneath polite language.

Bethwel folded his hands.

"And what do you believe?"

For the first time, Richie's smile weakened.

Just slightly.

"I believe some doors should remain closed."

The room became very quiet.

The inspector understood perfectly.

The message wasn't subtle.

Walk away.

Before something happened.

Unfortunately for Richie, Bethwel Kanda had built a career doing the opposite.

Several kilometers away, Fiona sat inside her operations center reviewing new intelligence.

One item immediately caught her attention.

Alison Pendo relocated to a secure location.

Her eyes narrowed.

Obadiah was adapting.

Fast.

Too fast.

Patricia's circle was becoming harder to penetrate.

Which left fewer options.

And fewer options often led to dangerous decisions.

The door opened.

One of her technical analysts entered.

"You need to see this."

The man placed a photograph on the table.

Fiona looked down.

Then froze.

David Pilka.

Recently photographed.

Alive.

The color immediately drained from her face.

"No."

The analyst nodded.

"Confirmed."

For several seconds, Fiona said nothing.

Then she slowly sat down.

Because David Pilka wasn't supposed to be alive.

Not after everything that happened.

Not after twenty-six years.

Not after Grace.

Not after the babies.

The analyst lowered his voice.

"Should we notify him?"

Fiona's expression hardened immediately.

"Absolutely not."

The analyst looked confused.

"Why?"

Fiona stared at David's photograph.

Because she understood something most people didn't.

The mastermind feared almost nobody.

Almost.

David Pilka was one of the exceptions.

Back at the quarry, Alex sat beside David beneath an old shelter.

The sun had begun setting.

Orange light spread across the horizon.

For a brief moment, the world looked peaceful.

Normal.

Then David ruined the illusion.

"They know I'm alive now."

Alex looked up.

"What makes you think that?"

David laughed softly.

"Because they always know."

The answer wasn't reassuring.

The older man removed a folded photograph from his jacket.

Its edges had faded with age.

Years of handling.

Years of hiding.

Years of survival.

David handed it to Alex.

The moment Alex saw it, his pulse quickened.

A maternity ward.

Newborn babies.

Nurses.

Doctors.

A moment frozen in time.

Then he noticed Grace.

Young.

Smiling.

Holding an infant.

Patricia.

Or Sarah.

Whatever her original name had been.

Then he noticed someone else.

Standing beside Grace.

A man.

Young.

Protective.

Happy.

David.

Twenty-six years younger.

Alex looked up.

Confused.

"You were there."

David nodded.

"Yes."

"Who were you?"

The older man stared at the photograph.

Then answered quietly.

"The man who should have protected them."

Silence.

Then Alex asked the obvious question.

"What happened?"

David closed his eyes.

The pain on his face looked ancient.

Like a wound that never healed.

Then he spoke.

"The night the babies disappeared..."

His voice cracked.

"...I made the worst mistake of my life."

Alex leaned forward.

The answer was finally coming.

Twenty-six years of secrets.

Twenty-six years of lies.

Twenty-six years of death.

And David Pilka was finally ready to tell the story.

But before he could continue, both men heard it.

An engine.

Then another.

Then a third.

Approaching the quarry.

Fast.

David immediately stood.

His face darkened.

Because only a handful of people knew this location.

And none of them should have been coming.

The vehicles appeared moments later at the top of the ridge.

Three black SUVs.

Descending toward them.

Alex's stomach dropped.

David's hand instinctively moved toward a pistol hidden beneath his jacket.

Then he whispered words that made Alex's blood run cold.

"They found us."