The Voice in the Dark
957 Words
CHAPTER FIVE: The Voice in the Dark
The room spun.
Ember couldn’t breathe.
The phone trembled against her ear, Santiago Ryker’s voice slicing through the speaker like ice through flesh.
“I assume I have your attention now,” he said. Calm. Almost bored.
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.
Jenna.
She was alive. Crying. Locked away somewhere.
And Ryker—he wasn’t a ghost, or a name in a file—he was real, and watching her.
“You’re wondering where she is,” Ryker mused. “That’s good. Worry makes you sharp. Your father was never sharper than when someone he loved was in danger.”
“You’re a coward,” Ember managed to say, her voice hoarse.
“No,” Ryker replied. “I’m a strategist. And right now, I hold all the cards. You want to see Jenna again? Then you’ll listen closely.”
Ember’s heart thundered in her ears. She slipped into Vaughn’s office, locking the door behind her.
“Tell me what you want,” she said, voice tight.
“You accessed your father’s drive. You’ve seen Dollhouse.”
She said nothing.
“Don’t bother denying it. I can smell panic through firewalls. You saw the names. The files. Maybe even the maps.”
He paused.
“I want you to send me Folder 9.”
Her breath caught. “What’s in Folder 9?”
“You’re not in a position to ask questions, Ember. Not when your cousin’s life is in my hands.”
Ember glanced at her laptop. Folder 9 was one she hadn’t even opened yet. The final lock. She hadn’t dared.
“I’ll need time.”
“I’m giving you twenty-four hours. After that, I send you what’s left of her.”
He hung up.
Silence swallowed the room.
Vaughn found her moments later, hunched over the desk, staring at the screen.
“What happened?” he demanded.
She looked up. “He called. Ryker. He has Jenna. And he wants Folder 9.”
Vaughn paled.
“Absolutely not.”
“She’s my family, Vaughn!”
He moved toward her. “And if you give him that data, you’re putting every asset on that list in danger. People who’ve buried themselves for decades. Whistleblowers. Survivors. You can’t make that call.”
“I have to,” she snapped. “I won’t let her die because of me.”
He was quiet. Calculating. Cold.
And that frightened her more than his anger ever could.
“You’re not the only person Ryker’s hurt,” Vaughn said. “There’s blood on his hands that even I can’t wash off. You don’t negotiate with monsters like him. You outsmart them.”
“Then help me.”
He stared at her.
Then slowly, he nodded.
“We’re going to open Folder 9. Together.”
The lock on Folder 9 was brutal.
Even with Vaughn’s top-tier decryption tools and Ember’s knowledge of her father’s coding habits, it took them six hours.
When the file opened, a cascade of information exploded across the screen.
At the center was a digital map—one Ember had seen fragments of before.
It showed a global web of shell companies, offshore accounts, and aliases.
Polaris’s entire operation.
Each node connected to real-world locations.
Coded messages. Disguised as charity donations, educational grants, and medical supply drops.
And then Ember found a sub-folder labeled: “The Marionette Project.”
Her blood chilled.
She clicked it open.
A dozen high-profile names appeared—government officials, CEOs, judges. All tagged with Polaris markers.
Mind control?
Bribery?
No.
Something worse.
“These people were groomed,” Vaughn whispered, scanning the list. “Raised, trained, and embedded. Since childhood. Entire lives scripted to become assets.”
A photo blinked onscreen. A girl. Blonde. Pale eyes.
Ember leaned forward.
It was Jenna.
“No,” Ember breathed. “That can’t be—she didn’t—she wouldn’t—”
“It doesn’t mean she’s part of it,” Vaughn said. “Maybe your father put her there to protect her. To warn you.”
Ember’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.
“Ryker wants this to disappear.”
“And you’re going to let him think it did.”
The next morning, Ember crafted a mirror file—clean of the Marionette Project, the node maps, and the embedded names.
She encrypted it under a new false shell and prepared it for transfer.
When the call came, she answered.
“You have it?” Ryker asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But I want proof. A live feed of Jenna. Now.”
He didn’t hesitate.
The screen blinked and lit up.
Jenna—tied to a chair, looking pale and frightened. Still alive.
“Now send it.”
Ember hit send.
The file zipped away into the ether.
Ryker smiled. “You made the smart choice.”
And then—he disconnected the feed.
“Wait—no—!”
But the screen was already dark.
Hours passed.
No update.
Vaughn’s agents scoured the web, but Ryker had vanished again.
“You bought us time,” Vaughn said. “That’s all this was.”
“I want her back,” Ember said.
“You will. But we need to hit him first.”
He handed her a file.
“What’s this?”
“Our next move. A safehouse. Outside Zurich. One of Ryker’s old drop sites. He might bring her there before extraction.”
Ember opened the folder.
Coordinates. Photos.
And a name she hadn’t seen before.
Everett Pierce.
“Who is he?” she asked.
“Former Polaris defector. Now hiding under deep cover.”
“And?”
“And according to this,” Vaughn said grimly, “he’s Jenna’s real father.”
- Writer
