Operations Center — Leah Gagnon
The servers hummed like a low, constant heartbeat as Leah pulled up the next set of financial records. The breadcrumb she’d found — GHB Strategic Holdings — had cracked open a door she hadn’t realized was there. Now she was staring into the dark.
She clicked through the Luxembourg filings again, tracing the capital infusion from GHB into the dissolved shell corporation. From there, she followed the money into a second shell — North Prairie Logistics — a company that claimed to handle agricultural transport in Saskatchewan.
Except it didn’t. It had no trucks, drivers, or contracts. There was no payroll. No physical address beyond a rented mailbox in Regina. But it had received $1.8 million from GHB Strategic Holdings six months ago.
Leah’s pulse quickened. She opened the corporate registry. North Prairie Logistics had purchased a parcel of land outside La Ronge — remote, forested, accessible only by a single service road. It was a location that matched the pattern. A location that had no business being owned by a logistics company. Bergmann purchased a location with his money.
She whispered, “There you are.”
Hayes entered behind her. “What did you find?”
Leah pointed to the screen. “The next site.”
Hayes leaned in, eyes narrowing. “Saskatchewan.”
Leah nodded. “And this one someone has not abandoned.”
Hayes exhaled slowly. “Then we move fast.”
Leah didn’t look away from the screen. “This isn’t just another shell. This one’s active.”
Hayes’ jaw tightened. “Meaning?”
Leah clicked open the land‑use permit. “Meaning someone’s there right now.”
###
Federal Medical Wing — Dr. Hale
Hale looked worse today — not physically, but emotionally. His eyes darted around the room like he expected someone to materialize out of the shadows. Hayes stood beside the bed, arms crossed. Marianne hovered near the door.
Hale swallowed hard. “You found the next site.”
Hayes didn’t answer. Hale laughed — a broken, hollow sound. “You think you’re ahead of him.”
Marianne stepped forward. “We’re getting closer.”
Hale rocked his head. “No. You’re walking into his plan.”
Hayes leaned closer. “Tell me what’s at the Saskatchewan site.”
Hale’s breathing quickened. “You don’t want to know.”
Hayes didn’t move. “Tell me.”
Hale’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s not a lab.”
Marianne frowned. “Then what is it?”
Hale closed his eyes. “It’s a proving ground.”
Hayes stiffened. “For what?”
Hale opened his eyes again — wide, terrified. “For the next generation of subjects.”
###
ICU — Elijah Greyhawk
Chet’s breathing was steady, his color better, his skin warm. Elijah sat beside him, exhaustion etched into every line of his face, but he didn’t move. Chet stirred — not just a twitch, but a full‑body shift beneath the blankets.
Elijah leaned forward. “Chet? Hey. I’m here.”
Chet’s eyes opened — fully, clearly, with awareness behind them. He blinked slowly, taking in the room, the monitors, the IV lines.
“Elijah…?”
Elijah’s breath caught. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m right here.”
Chet swallowed, throat working painfully. “What… happened?”
Elijah gently squeezed his hand and said, "You were injured. But you’re safe now.”
Chet’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding his gaze. “He… he said I was… important.”
Elijah’s stomach twisted. “You don’t have to talk about that now.”
Chet shook his head weakly. “No. He said… I was the first one who… survived.”
Elijah froze. Chet’s voice trembled. “What does that mean?”
Elijah didn’t have an answer.
###
Federal Holding Facility — Kline
Kline sat in the interview room, posture rigid, hands folded neatly on the table. He looked almost pleased today — like he’d been waiting for them.
Leah entered with Hayes, closing the door behind her. She set a printed page on the table — the land‑use permit for the Saskatchewan site. Kline glanced at it. Then he smiled.
“You found the next phase.”
Hayes’ jaw tightened. “What’s there?”
Kline tilted his head. “Progress.”
Leah leaned forward. “Hale said it’s a proving ground.”
Kline nodded. “Correct.”
Hayes’ voice sharpened. “For what?”
Kline’s eyes gleamed. “For the second chamber.”
Leah’s breath caught. “There’s another one?”
Kline smiled faintly. “Of course. You didn’t think the northern site was the only prototype, did you?”
Hayes slammed a hand on the table. “How many?”
Kline didn’t flinch. “Enough.”
Leah swallowed hard. “And the subjects?”
Kline’s expression softened — disturbingly so. “They’re already there.”
Hayes felt something cold settle in his chest. “Children?”
Kline nodded. “Children adapt best.”
Leah’s stomach twisted. “You’re a monster.”
Kline blinked. “No. I’m a scientist.”
Hayes leaned in, voice low and dangerous. “And Bergmann?”
Kline’s smile widened. “He’s the visionary.”
###
Operations Center — Leah Gagnon
Leah stood in front of the whiteboard, staring at the new name she’d added beneath LEGACY and GHB STRATEGIC HOLDINGS:
NORTH PRAIRIE LOGISTICS — SASKATCHEWAN SITE
She circled it once. Then she drew a line connecting it to BERGMANN.
Hayes entered quietly. “We have confirmation?”
Leah nodded. “Subjects on site. A second chamber. Active operations.”
Hayes exhaled slowly. “Then we move.”
Leah didn’t look away from the board. “This isn’t a rescue mission.”
Hayes nodded grimly. “I know.”
Leah capped the marker, her voice steady.
Hayes snapped the folder shut. “Gear up. We leave at dawn.”
Leah didn’t argue. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look back at the board. She simply nodded once.
“We’re done chasing ghosts,” she said. “This time, we take the ground out from under him.”
Hayes allowed himself the smallest, sharpest smile. “Good,” he said. “I’m tired of playing catch‑up.”