For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The server continued displaying the message.
SUCCESSION ACTIVE.
MICHAEL JAMES HAYES.
AUTHORIZED BISHOP.
Mom stared toward Thomas’s collar microphone as though Hayes could somehow see her.
“That’s impossible.”
Matthew looked genuinely shaken.
“No.”
Thomas turned on him.
“You control succession.”
“I maintain records. I do not initiate emergency succession.”
“Who does?”
“The protocol.”
“Software?”
“Partly.”
Elena’s voice came through the transmitter.
“You built automated succession?”
“Raymond did.”
Diane’s husband.
Matthew’s father.
The previous Archivist.
“Why?”
“Because the network had to survive if both Bishop and Archivist were compromised.”
Hayes finally spoke from outside.
“Why me?”
Matthew typed.
“I’m checking.”
Sirens multiplied below.
Through the window, I saw Chicago police vehicles blocking both ends of the street.
State officers were moving into defensive positions.
Hayes said, “They’re not responding to my commands.”
Matthew found the succession file.
His face changed.
“Michael.”
“What?”
“Your father nominated you.”
Silence.
Hayes’s voice lowered.
“My father died when I was seventeen.”
Matthew looked at the screen.
“James Hayes created a conditional successor record before his disappearance.”
Thomas asked, “What condition?”
Matthew read.
“If James Hayes is removed, and no approved Bishop remains, succession transfers to biological heir upon law-enforcement qualification.”
My stomach turned.
Hayes had been chosen before he became a detective.
Before he knew the network existed.
His father had planted him into the system as an unborn future possibility.
Hayes said, “Why would he do that?”
Vale answered.
“To protect you.”
Hayes laughed bitterly over the transmitter.
“Apparently that disease is hereditary.”
Vale looked ashamed.
“James knew the network would watch his family after he turned against them. If you were marked as future Bishop, certain protections would activate.”
“What protections?”
Matthew searched.
“Non-target status.”
Hayes went silent.
Thomas understood.
“His father made the network protect Michael.”
“Yes.”
“By making him successor.”
“Yes.”
“But now Cole is compromised.”
“And the system automatically promoted Michael.”
Mom whispered, “So those officers outside think Hayes is Bishop?”
Matthew shook his head.
“Most don’t know Bishop exists.”
“Then why are they here?”
“Emergency operational orders are issued through normal channels.”
“To do what?”
Matthew read.
“Secure Archivist.”
Everyone looked at him.
The police outside had been sent to capture Matthew.
“Who issued that?” Elena asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Can Hayes cancel it?”
Matthew looked toward the transmitter.
“If he accepts succession.”
Hayes answered immediately.
“No.”
Thomas said, “Think.”
“I said no.”
“If accepting it gets those officers to stand down—”
“I am not becoming Bishop.”
“You already are according to their system.”
“That doesn’t mean I participate.”
Matthew said, “You can issue one order and then relinquish.”
Hayes gave a bitter laugh.
“You expect me to log into a criminal command system.”
“Yes.”
“That alone could destroy every case I ever touch.”
“If you don’t, armed officers may enter this building believing Matthew is a threat to classified police infrastructure.”
“What are their rules of engagement?”
Matthew checked.
His face tightened.
“Capture if practical.”
“And if not?”
Matthew didn’t answer.
Hayes swore.
Outside, a loudspeaker activated.
“Occupants of Apartment 3C, remain inside and keep away from windows.”
Thomas looked toward the ceiling.
“They know the exact apartment.”
Matthew nodded.
“They always know.”
Mom asked, “Can we prove to those officers they’re being manipulated?”
“Not quickly.”
“State police?”
“Trying.”
Ortiz came through Hayes’s line.
“Chicago command says they’re operating under a cyberterrorism warrant.”
Matthew almost smiled.
“There.”
“What?”
“That’s the cover.”
He had been classified as a threat to city systems.
Which, technically, he was.
Elena said, “Matthew, log Michael in.”
“No.”
Hayes’s voice sharpened.
“I said no.”
I looked at the screen.
“What happens if he accepts?”
Matthew answered me, not Hayes.
“He receives operational authority.”
“Over all Bishop assets?”
“Yes.”
“Names?”
“Some.”
“Locations?”
“Yes.”
“Accounts?”
“Yes.”
“Then he could see everyone still in the network.”
Thomas looked at me.
“Chloe.”
“What?”
“You’re thinking like Samuel.”
“I’m thinking like me.”
Hayes heard me.
“No.”
I walked closer to the transmitter.
“If you log in, can you order everyone to stand down?”
“Probably.”
“And download the network list?”
Matthew answered.
“Yes.”
Hayes said, “That is participation in a criminal system.”
Elena cut in.
“So infiltrate it.”
“You make that sound clean.”
“It won’t be.”
“But useful.”
Hayes was silent.
Vale spoke.
“Michael.”
“What?”
“Your father tried to dismantle Bishop from inside.”
Hayes’s voice changed.
“You don’t get to use him.”
“I knew him.”
“You knew the man who pretended to be him.”
Vale shook his head.
“No.”
Everyone stopped.
“What?” Thomas asked.
Vale looked at Matthew.
“Tell him.”
Matthew’s face tightened.
Hayes’s voice became dangerous.
“Tell me what?”
Matthew sat.
“James Hayes survived longer than you were told.”
“I know that.”
“No.”
Matthew hesitated.
“He was the man Vale met twelve years ago.”
Hayes went silent.
“That wasn’t an impostor?”
“No.”
“But my father died twenty-three years ago.”
“His death was staged.”
I saw Thomas react.
The pattern again.
False death.
Protection.
Control.
Hayes said nothing.
Matthew continued.
“James entered the network fully after his staged death.”
“Why?”
“To keep you and your mother off the target list.”
“So he became Bishop.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Seven years.”
“And then?”
“He turned against Raymond.”
“Your father.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Matthew looked at the floor.
“Raymond ordered him removed.”
Hayes whispered, “Killed?”
Matthew did not answer directly.
“James disappeared.”
“That word means nothing in this family anymore.”
Mom flinched even though Hayes wasn’t speaking about us.
“Where did he go?”
“I genuinely do not know.”
Vale said, “He was alive twelve years ago when I saw him.”
“How long after that?”
“No contact.”
Hayes breathed heavily through the microphone.
“Did he nominate me before or after turning against the network?”
Matthew searched the succession record.
“After.”
That changed the meaning.
James had not named his son successor to continue Bishop.
He had done it as part of whatever plan he attempted.
Hayes understood.
“He expected this.”
“Possibly.”
“He expected emergency succession to reach me.”
“Yes.”
“Then he left something.”
Matthew looked up.
“Maybe.”
Hayes laughed without humor.
“You people hide instructions everywhere.”
I said, “Check the succession file.”
Matthew did.
Buried beneath system permissions was an attachment inaccessible to anyone except the activated successor.
HAYES_ONLY.
Encrypted.
Matthew could not open it.
Only Michael could.
Hayes went quiet again.
Outside, officers announced a five-minute compliance deadline.
Mom gripped my shoulder.
“Michael.”
He answered.
“I know.”
Thomas said, “You don’t have five minutes to resolve your moral crisis.”
Hayes snapped, “My moral crisis is the only reason you trust me.”
Thomas stopped.
True.
Hayes had spent days refusing easy shortcuts precisely because he cared about what authority did to people.
Now the network was offering him absolute shortcuts.
That was why accepting terrified him.
I walked toward the window but stayed behind the wall.
“Detective Hayes?”
“Yes?”
“You told me the first day not to guess.”
A pause.
“I remember.”
“You said if I didn’t know, say I didn’t know.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know what accepting does.”
“No.”
“But you know what refusing does right now.”
Silence.
Officers outside prepared shields.
Hayes exhaled.
“Matthew.”
“Yes.”
“Set it up.”
Mom closed her eyes.
Matthew connected a secure terminal.
A login screen appeared.
Biometric verification required.
Hayes had to come inside.
He did.
State police kept the stairwell covered while he entered quickly.
This was the first time I had seen him since the succession announcement.
He looked furious.
Not scared.
Maybe both.
Matthew pushed the terminal toward him.
“Finger.”
Hayes stared.
“If this installs anything—”
“It’s isolated.”
“I’m trusting you once.”
Matthew nodded.
“I know.”
Hayes pressed his finger to the scanner.
The screen changed.
MICHAEL JAMES HAYES.
SUCCESSION CONFIRMED.
His face tightened.
A command dashboard appeared.
Hayes stared at the categories.
OPERATIONS.
FINANCE.
LEVERAGE.
PERSONNEL.
PROTECTED.
ARCHIVIST.
He looked sick.
“This has been inside police systems?”
Matthew answered, “Around them.”
Hayes selected OPERATIONS.
One active instruction.
SECURE ARCHIVIST.
He canceled it.
A confirmation prompt appeared.
REASON?
Hayes typed:
BISHOP ORDER.
Then confirmed.
Outside, less than thirty seconds later, the loudspeaker went silent.
Police shields lowered.
Vehicles began receiving updated instructions.
The network obeyed.
Hayes stared at the screen.
He had become Bishop for one command.
Then he opened HAYES_ONLY.
The file requested another password.
Hint:
THE FIRST PROMISE.
Hayes looked confused.
“I don’t know.”
Matthew said nothing.
Mom asked, “Something your father said?”
Hayes stared at the hint.
His expression slowly changed.
“When I was little…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“My father used to leave for night shifts.”
He swallowed.
“I would ask if he was coming back.”
My chest tightened.
“What did he say?”
Hayes looked at the screen.
“Always.”
He typed ALWAYS.
The file opened.
One video.
No text.
James Hayes appeared on-screen.
Older than the father Michael remembered.
Alive years after his supposed death.
Michael sat down.
His father looked directly into the camera.
“If you are watching this, then I failed to stop succession.”
Hayes’s face broke slightly.
James continued.
“Michael, I am sorry.”
The same word Thomas had given me.
The same useless, necessary word.
“I made you my successor because the Bishop system cannot be destroyed from outside. Raymond built it to regenerate.”
Matthew closed his eyes.
His father’s design.
James continued.
“But succession has one flaw.”
Hayes leaned closer.
“The active Bishop can dissolve the office.”
Matthew went still.
“What?”
He had not known.
James explained.
The command required three conditions.
Active Bishop authentication.
Archivist authentication.
And Mirror’s final consent key.
Every face turned toward me.
Of course.
Again.
James continued.
“If all three approve dissolution, Bishop authority ends permanently. Accounts freeze. Operational commands disable. Succession records publish into sealed federal custody.”
Matthew whispered, “Raymond never told me.”
James’s image continued.
“He would not. He feared the Archivist might someday develop a conscience.”
Matthew looked almost offended.
Then sad.
Hayes asked the screen, “What about the protected identities?”
James answered in the recording as though he knew the question.
“Mirror must separate them first.”
So everything converged.
Hayes.
Matthew.
Me.
Not one person controlling the outcome.
Three people from three different sides.
Police.
Archivist.
Family.
James finished.
“Michael, if you inherited this, do not keep it to protect anyone.”
Hayes lowered his head.
“End it.”
The video stopped.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Matthew said, “We can.”
Elena’s voice came through Thomas’s transmitter.
“Not yet.”
Everyone turned.
“What now?” Hayes asked.
“The fourteen uncertain records.”
Vale nodded.
“I can correct twelve.”
“And the other two?” I asked.
Vale looked at Hayes.
“James altered them.”
Hayes stared at his father’s frozen image.
“And he’s not here.”
Matthew searched the hidden file.
“There may be another attachment.”
Nothing.
Thomas said, “Then we find the records.”
Vale named them.
Two protected identities created twelve years ago.
One adult male.
One adult female.
Both relocated under false deaths.
Hayes asked for original names.
Vale hesitated.
Then spoke.
“James Hayes.”
Michael stopped breathing.
The first uncertain record was his father.
“And the second?” Mom asked.
Vale looked at Thomas.
“Elena Ward.”
Silence.
Elena’s voice disappeared from the transmitter.
Thomas touched the device.
“Elena?”
Nothing.
“Elena.”
Hayes checked the connection.
Dead.
Matthew went pale.
“She heard.”
Thomas was already moving toward the door.
“Where is she?”
Hayes called Ortiz.
No response from Elena’s position.
Then Ortiz came on.
“She’s gone.”
Thomas stopped.
“What do you mean gone?”
“She left thirty seconds ago.”
“Follow her.”
“We tried.”
“Where?”
Ortiz hesitated.
“She took a car.”
Matthew looked at the uncertain record list.
“She knows.”
Thomas asked, “Knows what?”
Matthew’s face tightened.
“If Elena’s identity is still classified as protected, Mirror cannot complete separation without her verification.”
“So?”
“So she is not merely one of the fourteen.”
He looked at me.
“She is the final unresolved record.”
A new message appeared on the terminal.
From Elena.
DO NOT DISSOLVE BISHOP.
Hayes stared.
Then a second line appeared.
IF YOU DO, THOMAS DIES.
Dad went completely still.
Click here to continue reading: PART 25: Elena’s Warning Made Thomas Look Like the Target, Until We Learned His Survival Was Holding Someone Else’s Identity Together
The Morning I Lied About Being Sick Became the Morning I Saw My Aunt Betray My Mother
Part 24 of 24
