Uncharted Killers

Now making sense

The new safe house was a run-down storage facility on the outskirts of town, hidden behind a rusting scrapyard. The air inside smelled of dust and metal, but it was secure. Randi and Martha barricaded the entrance while Navaro slumped onto a battered chair, pressing a fresh bandage against his wound. Marcus booted up a laptop on an old wooden table, his fingers tapping the keys in rapid succession.

Randi exhaled and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Alright, Navaro. No more half-truths. Who the hell is behind Redwell?"

Navaro let out a slow breath. "The public face of Redwell is Ben Herms, a billionaire with ties to pharmaceutical and military research. But he’s not the real power behind it. The true owner operates from the shadows—a man named Donald Saul. He’s one of the highest-ranking officials in the government."

Martha's brows furrowed. "Government? You’re saying Redwell is backed by the people running the country?"

"Not just backed," Navaro said. "Controlled. Monroe has influence in intelligence, the military, and even global biotech firms. Redwell isn’t just a private entity—it’s a tool for his greater plans. And that’s why they’ve been so untouchable."

Randi shook his head, trying to process it all. "What’s their endgame?"

Navaro glanced at Marcus. "That’s what we need to find out."

Marcus cracked his knuckles, then smirked. "Lucky for you, I came prepared."

He tapped a final key, and the screen lit up with folders and video thumbnails. "I hacked into Redwell’s encrypted servers months ago. Took me weeks to get through their firewalls, but I found something. I wasn’t ready to share it… until now."

He clicked on a file labeled Project Genesis.

The screen flickered to life, showing a dimly lit laboratory. Scientists in biohazard suits moved between tanks filled with a thick green fluid. Inside those tanks—people. Some barely conscious, others screaming in agony.

Martha covered her mouth. "My God… they’re experimenting on humans."

The video continued. A man strapped to a metal table convulsed violently as tubes pumped something into his veins. His screams were gut-wrenching. Moments later, his body stiffened, his eyes rolling back before his veins turned black. The machine monitoring his vitals flatlined.

"Jesus…" Randi muttered. "How long has this been going on?"

Marcus leaned back, his usual smugness gone. "Years. Maybe decades. They take people—homeless, prisoners, political dissidents. No one notices when they disappear. And they experiment on them like lab rats. Some they try to enhance—turn into weapons. Others… well, you just saw what happens."

Randi studied Marcus, suspicion creeping into his tone. "Why were you looking into Redwell in the first place? You knew how dangerous they are. So why risk it?"

Marcus hesitated. Then, with a heavy breath, he opened another file. A grainy security feed. A woman, restrained to a chair, electrodes attached to her temples. Her body trembled as a Redwell scientist injected something into her neck.

"That’s my mother," Marcus said, his voice barely above a whisper.

On-screen, the woman screamed, thrashing against the restraints. The feed cut to static.

"She died a few minutes later," Marcus continued, his hands clenching into fists. "They called her Subject 17. She was a nurse—wrong place, wrong time. She saw something she wasn’t supposed to, and they took her. She never came home. I was fifteen when she disappeared. I didn’t know the truth until I hacked Redwell’s servers. That’s when I saw this video. That’s when I knew they had to pay."

Silence filled the room. Even Navaro, hardened by years of betrayal and war, looked shaken.

Randi cleared his throat. "And how did you get those videos?"

Marcus let out a humorless chuckle. "Redwell likes to keep records of their work. Arrogance. They thought no one could get past their security. But I did. And I downloaded everything I could before they locked me out."

Randi rubbed his temples. "They’re going to come for you, Marcus."

"They already have." He gestured around the room. "This? This isn’t my first time running."

Martha, who had been listening intently, finally turned to Navaro. "And what about you? Back when we first met Marcus, the video he showed us—you were in it. You were shaking hands with that man. Explain."

Navaro’s expression darkened. He leaned forward. "That man was Richard Langston, the so-called CEO of Redwell. But the real owner? The one standing next to him? That was Alistair Monroe. The ghost who never shows his face in public."

Randi frowned. "And you shook his hand. Why?"

Navaro exhaled. "Because I was investigating him. I worked undercover, getting close, trying to find proof. I had to make them trust me. But before I could get anything solid, they found out. That’s when everything fell apart. That’s when I had to disappear."

Martha shook her head, still piecing it together. "So you got close, but they caught on. And they retaliated by trying to erase you."

"Exactly," Navaro said. "Monroe doesn’t just kill his enemies—he destroys everything they love. That’s why I had to let the world think I was dead. That’s why I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Randi."

Randi exhaled sharply. "So now we know who we’re really fighting. A man with more power than we can comprehend."

Marcus cracked his knuckles. "And thanks to me, we have his dirty laundry."

Martha narrowed her eyes. "Then let’s make sure the whole world sees it."

Navaro nodded. "We’re going to bring Redwell down. But we need a plan. And we need it fast—because after what we just saw, you can bet they’re already on their way."

The room fell silent as they all braced for what was coming next. The war against Redwell was just beginning.