Chapter 8 - The Original LedgerThe lockdown lasted eleven minutes.
By the time security reached the corridor, the intruder had disappeared. A door to the basement records archive hung crooked on its hinges, and a security camera had been smashed.
No one was injured.
But the original medical ledger was gone.
Administrator Hensley arrived in a wrinkled shirt, demanding to know who had authorized the lockdown. Mercer refused to answer until the building had been searched. Teague remained absent.
Annie watched the confusion unfold.
"They knew what Daniel told me," she said.
Mercer nodded. "Someone is monitoring hospital communications."
"Then we stop using them."
They moved into Linda's office, where the old landline was disconnected from the hospital network. Linda closed the door and drew the blinds.
"I have worked here for twenty-three years," she said. "I've never seen anyone break into the archives."
"Has anyone requested old medical records recently?" Annie asked.
Linda considered it.
"Three weeks ago, Teague asked me to help him locate a set of archived trauma records. He said they were needed for a quality review."
"Which records?"
"He wouldn't tell me. But he was very specific about the year and the month."
Annie felt a chill.
"The month of the operation."
Linda nodded.
"That's what I thought."
Mercer opened his laptop and searched through the copies he had managed to preserve. Most of the files were incomplete, but a reference number appeared in several places: PH-17-M.
Annie recognized the prefix.
"Pine Harbor, year seventeen, medical archive."
"Can you access it?" Mercer asked.
"Not through the system. But the old paper ledgers were kept in the basement before the hospital converted to digital records."
"They were moved to the off-site storage building last year," Linda said. "I signed the inventory."
"Do you remember where?"
"County Road Twelve. A warehouse beside the old rail depot."
Mercer looked toward the window.
"The storm has knocked out power along that road."
"Then we'll go when the road is safe," Annie said.
Mercer shook his head.
"If Daniel's call was traced, they'll expect us to move."
"Then we don't move together."
Annie turned to Linda.
"Can you make a list of everyone who has accessed the archive in the last month?"
"I can try."
"Don't use the hospital computer. Write it down."
Danny appeared in the doorway.
"I can help."
Annie studied him.
"You've done enough already."
"No, I haven't."
His voice was unsteady, but he held her gaze.
"I laughed at you. I joined in when Teague called you Mouse. I watched him treat you like you were stupid, and I did nothing because I didn't want to become his next target."
He swallowed.
"I can't undo that. But I can stop pretending it wasn't wrong."
Annie said nothing for a moment.
Then she nodded.
"Good. Start by checking the ambulance logs. We need to know which vehicles came and went tonight."
Danny left.
Mercer closed the laptop.
"You're still giving orders."
"Someone has to."
He almost smiled.
"That's the Angel Six I remember."
"No," Annie replied. "That's the woman who has spent seven months trying to forget her own name."
She looked down at the dog tags beneath her collar.
"I don't know if I'm ready to be that person again."
"You don't have to become the person you were before," Mercer said. "You only have to decide what kind of person you want to be now."
Before Annie could answer, Linda returned with a handwritten list.
"There's something else."
She placed it on the desk.
A name appeared at the top.
Dr. Warren Teague — Archive Access, 11:42 p.m.
Below it was a second name.
Paul Hensley — Archive Access, 12:06 a.m.
And a third.
Elias Mercer — Archive Access, 12:19 a.m.
Annie looked up.
"Captain, you said your access was revoked."
"It was."
"Then how did you enter the archive tonight?"
Mercer's face tightened.
"I didn't."
Linda pointed to the signature line.
"The access was authorized with your credentials."
Mercer stared at the page.
Someone had used his name to get into the archive.
Someone who knew the system, knew the old operation, and knew exactly which records mattered.
Annie turned the page over.
There was a handwritten note on the back, in ink that had begun to fade.
If Angel Six returns, show her the original ledger.
Underneath was a date.
Seven months earlier.
And beside it, a set of initials.
May you like
A.K.
Annie's own.
