Chapter 4 - Victor Sloan Returns
Victor Sloan arrived at the base the next afternoon with three attorneys.
He was sixty-one.
Silver hair.
Controlled smile.
A man who had spent enough years in uniform to understand exactly how authority should look after he no longer possessed it.
Ryan disliked him immediately.
Mara did not look surprised.
Victor entered Admiral Keene’s conference room.
“Mara.”
“Victor.”
He smiled.
“Still fixing things?”
“Still breaking them?”
The attorneys shifted.
Keene cut in.
“This is not a reunion.”
Victor placed both hands on table.
“Vector K9 Systems has cooperated fully.”
Tessa Grant asked:
“Did you authorize Phase IV Carter Exposure?”
“No.”
“Your company name is on the document.”
“Vector employs hundreds.”
“Did you know Mara worked on base?”
“Yes.”
Mara looked sharply.
Victor continued:
“It’s public employment information.”
“No, it isn’t,” Keene said.
Victor paused.
A mistake.
Then corrected:
“I was informed through professional contacts.”
“Who?”
“I would need to review.”
Tessa wrote.
Then Lena entered with veterinary reports.
Victor smiled at her.
“You must be Lena.”
Lena stopped.
“How do you know me?”
“Mara spoke about you constantly.”
Mara’s jaw tightened.
Seven years disappeared for a second.
Victor added:
“You look like her.”
Lena sat beside her mother.
“Seven dogs have measurable stress or overuse injuries following Vector’s new conditioning schedule.”
Victor glanced at files.
“Correlation.”
“Maybe.”
“I want raw protocol data.”
“Proprietary.”
Lena laughed.
“Not when you used military animals.”
One of Victor’s attorneys interrupted.
“Dr. Carter, contractual access is a legal question.”
Lena looked directly at Victor.
“Then legally explain why your schedule increased repetitions after fatigue markers appeared.”
Victor turned to Keene.
“Is this how meetings are run now?”
Keene said:
“When dogs are injured, yes.”
Mara watched Victor carefully.
He had not changed as much as she expected.
Still used contempt when charm failed.
Tessa produced the black-case document.
“Your signature appears on a budget approval tied to Phase IV.”
Victor leaned.
“Digital approval.”
“Meaning?”
“I approve department budgets, not every training event.”
“Who runs Phase IV?”
“Dr. Malcolm Voss.”
Mara’s face changed.
Lena noticed.
“Who?”
Mara whispered:
“Sentinel’s original research director.”
Ryan stared.
“I thought Sloan ran it.”
“He ran command side.”
“Voss built the conditioning architecture.”
Victor said:
“Malcolm left government service years ago.”
“And joined you,” Mara replied.
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
Victor looked at attorney.
“Washington State.”
Tessa asked:
“Address?”
“We’ll provide.”
Then Mara said:
“He won’t be there.”
Victor smiled faintly.
“You still think everyone is hiding from you.”
“No.”
“I think Malcolm never goes anywhere without a backup plan.”
Then Tessa received message.
She looked down.
Dr. Malcolm Voss had boarded a flight from San Diego that morning.
Destination not Washington.
Denver.
Lena froze.
“My home.”
Mara stood so quickly chair moved.
Tessa raised hand.
“Dr. Carter’s Denver residence?”
Lena nodded.
“I have an apartment there.”
“Anyone inside?”
“My fiancé is traveling.”
“Pets?”
“No.”
Tessa called local federal partners immediately.
Mara looked at Victor.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“If Malcolm goes near my daughter—”
Victor stood.
“Don’t threaten me.”
Mara stepped closer.
Ryan moved between.
Not because he feared she would attack.
Because her expression made room temperature change.
Victor lowered voice.
“Malcolm is not going after Lena.”
“How would you know?”
“Because he wants your father’s archive.”
Mara stopped.
“My father is dead.”
“Yes.”
“But his kennel records aren’t.”
Lena looked between them.
“What archive?”
Mara said nothing.
Victor answered.
“Your grandfather, Dr. Elias Carter, developed the original behavioral foundation Mara later adapted for Sentinel.”
Lena stared at her mother.
“You told me Grandpa trained civilian rescue dogs.”
“He did.”
“And more.”
Mara closed eyes.
Her father had kept notebooks.
Generational breeding behavior.
Hand signals.
Scent imprint experiments.
Nothing classified when created.
Later Sentinel absorbed portions.
After Elias died, the archive legally passed to Mara.
She hid it.
“Where?”
Victor asked.
Mara smiled without humor.
“You think I’m telling you?”
Victor’s face hardened.
“That archive is the key to stabilizing Phase IV.”
“And that is exactly why you will never have it.”
Then Lena’s phone rang.
Denver Police.
Her apartment door showed no forced entry.
But inside, one thing was missing.
A wooden box she had stored since her grandfather’s funeral.
She had never opened it.
Mara whispered:
“What box?”
“Grandpa’s.”
Mara went pale.
“What was inside?”
“I don’t know.”
Mara closed eyes.
“I do.”
Everyone waited.
“The original Sentinel hand-signal journal.”
Victor Sloan smiled for the first time.
Not because he was pleased.
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Because he had just realized Malcolm Voss was no longer working for him.
He was stealing the one thing Vector had spent seven years trying to recreate.
