Chapter 5: The Impossible Witness
Chapter 5: The Impossible Witness
For three heartbeats, nobody moved.
Not me.
Not Gabriel, who was struggling to his feet through the smoke.
Not the two masked gunmen frozen in the ruined security room.
Every pair of eyes was fixed on Sebastian Lombardi.
Standing.
His right hand gripped the concrete wall with white-knuckled strength. His left still held the pistol, unwavering despite the tremor running through his body.
His legs shook violently.
Not from fear.
From effort.
Twenty years of muscles that had forgotten their purpose were trying to remember.
One of the attackers whispered, almost to himself,
"That's... impossible."
Sebastian's cold eyes found him.
"So was surviving my father's murder."
The gunman reacted first.
He fired.
Gabriel threw himself sideways.
I dropped to the floor.
Sebastian didn't have the balance to dodge, but he didn't need to.
The bullet struck the wall inches from his shoulder.
His own shot answered a fraction of a second later.
The attacker crumpled before he could pull the trigger again.
The second man fled into the tunnel.
Gabriel raised his weapon.
"Don't!"
Sebastian's voice stopped him.
"Let him run."
"He'll escape."
"No."
Sebastian lowered himself carefully back into the wheelchair, breathing harder than he wanted anyone to notice.
"He'll lead us to whoever sent him."
For several seconds, the only sound was the emergency alarm.
I knelt beside Sebastian.
"Don't try that again."
His lips curved into the faintest smile.
"You sound like you're giving orders."
"I am."
"You've become brave."
"I'm becoming realistic."
I examined his legs.
The muscles had responded.
Not well.
Not fully.
But they had responded.
"You can bear weight," I whispered.
"Briefly."
"Which means the pathway isn't dead."
Gabriel stared between us.
"Can you fix it?"
I looked at Sebastian.
"I don't know."
It was the only honest answer.
"I've never treated someone whose injury was manipulated."
The word hung in the air.
Manipulated.
Not damaged.
Not destroyed.
Manipulated.
Sebastian repeated it slowly.
"Someone kept me disabled."
I nodded.
"I think so."
Gabriel looked ready to be sick.
"For twenty years..."
They moved us into the mansion's panic room.
It resembled a military command center more than a shelter.
Backup generators restored power.
Fresh surveillance feeds appeared on a wall of monitors.
The attack was over.
Seven intruders.
Four dead.
Two captured.
One escaped.
Sebastian watched the footage without expression.
"Bring me the prisoners."
Gabriel hesitated.
"They're injured."
"Good."
"They may not survive questioning."
Sebastian's eyes never left the screens.
"Then ask better questions."
An hour later, the first prisoner sat handcuffed beneath bright lights.
He couldn't have been older than thirty.
A deep cut crossed his forehead.
He refused to look at Sebastian.
Instead, his eyes locked on me.
Recognition.
Fear.
Then something even stranger.
Pity.
"You shouldn't have touched him," the prisoner said.
I frowned.
"What?"
"You don't understand what you've started."
Sebastian leaned forward.
"Who hired you?"
Silence.
Gabriel placed a folder on the table.
"We already know your name."
Nothing.
"We know your military record."
Still nothing.
"We know your family lives in Milwaukee."
That got a reaction.
Only a flicker.
But enough.
Sebastian noticed.
"So that's what matters."
The prisoner's jaw tightened.
"You can kill me."
"I have."
Sebastian's voice remained perfectly calm.
"Many times."
The room fell silent.
"But if someone threatens children..."
His gaze hardened.
"I become extremely curious."
The prisoner's confidence cracked.
Just slightly.
"I never met the client."
"How were you contacted?"
"A broker."
"Name."
"I don't know."
"Liar."
"It's true."
He swallowed.
"We only received one instruction."
Sebastian leaned closer.
"What instruction?"
The man looked directly at me again.
His face turned pale.
"If the woman makes you walk..."
His voice trembled.
"...kill her before she tells you about the second surgery."
Every muscle in my body froze.
Second surgery?
I looked at Sebastian.
His expression had changed completely.
"There was only one operation."
The prisoner slowly shook his head.
"No."
"You were unconscious."
"What are you talking about?"
"The first surgery saved your life."
A long pause.
"The second one..."
He closed his eyes.
"...made sure you never got it back."
The room became deathly quiet.
Gabriel stepped forward.
"Who performed the second surgery?"
"I don't know."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"When?"
"I wasn't there."
Sebastian slammed his fist onto the steel table.
The sharp clang echoed through the room.
"For twenty years I've owned this city."
The prisoner flinched.
"I know every judge."
Another strike.
"I know every politician."
A third.
"I know every family."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"And somehow..."
He stared into the prisoner's terrified eyes.
"...someone operated on my body without my knowledge."
The prisoner nodded once.
"They had help."
"From whom?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I'm telling the truth."
He took a shaky breath.
"But I heard one name."
Everyone leaned in.
"The people behind this..."
He hesitated.
"...they called the operation Project Lazarus."
Gabriel's face emptied of all color.
"No..."
Sebastian looked at him sharply.
"You've heard it before."
Gabriel didn't answer.
"Gabriel."
A long silence followed.
Finally, Gabriel whispered,
"Your father."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed.
"What about him?"
"The week before he died..."
Gabriel looked like a man reliving a nightmare.
"I heard him arguing on the phone."
"What did he say?"
"He kept shouting..."
Gabriel swallowed hard.
"'Shut Project Lazarus down before they destroy my son.'"
The words hit Sebastian harder than any bullet.
His father had known.
Not only about the bombing.
About something much larger.
Something hidden for twenty years.
And somewhere inside the mansion, unnoticed by anyone, Dr. Victor Reynolds' empty office computer suddenly powered itself on.
A single encrypted file appeared on the screen.
May you like
Its title was only three words.
PATIENT 17: LOMBARDI.
