The same classified project I breached four days ago.
My stomach drops.
I pull up the witness statements. Mrs. Kimi from the corner store. Officer Ramirez, who arrived first on the scene. Both mention a black sedan leaving the area minutes before the crash.
Both statements were later “revised” to remove that detail.
I cross-reference the timeline with Nightshade’s operational calendar—data I grabbed during my accidental breach. June 2019 shows increased activity in the Northeast corridor. Asset deployment. Threat neutralization protocols.
My parents weren’t killed by the Russian mafia.
They were killed by our own government.
My phone buzzes. Alexi again.
Tired of waiting, detka. Tell me you’re coming over.
I swipe the notification away, pulling up Morrison’s communication logs. The encryption is military-grade, but I’ve broken worse.
The first decrypted message makes my blood run cold.
Mitchells confirmed as a security risk. Recommend immediate action before information reaches foreign intelligence.
My father worked in defense contracting. Low-level clearance. Nothing that should’ve made him a target unless?—
I dig deeper into his personnel file.
He’d discovered something. Flagged an anomaly in weapons shipments that didn’t match official records. Started asking questions.
Questions about Project Nightshade.
My phone buzzes three times in rapid succession.
You’re ignoring me.
Bad idea.
I can see you’re online. Whatever you’re doing, stop.
I silence my phone completely.
The final document in Morrison’s file lists names. Project Nightshade operatives. Agents involved in “containment operations.”
I scan the list, looking for anything that might?—
Volkov, Kiril. Status: Active. Current assignment: Asset protection, Boston area.
Not Ivanov. Volkov.
Different organization entirely.
I’ve spent years hacking the wrong family, convinced the Ivanov brothers killed my parents when they had nothing to do with it.
Years of hacking and chasing the Ivanov family while the real killers operated under a completely different banner.
My laptop screen blurs as tears burn my eyes.
My screen goes black.