Chapter 4 - The Shadow of Project Blackwood
The silence in the dojo was so dense it felt physical.
Viktor Vance sat on his knee, the red piping of his black gi damp with sudden, cold sweat. His eyes darted from Emma’s pale face to Sarah, who was standing near the door, her face drained of all color, her hands shaking violently.
"Your... father?" Viktor breathed, his memory racing backward through twenty years of blood, classified contracts, and buried bodies.
"Major Gabriel Miller," Emma said. Her hands went back into the front pocket of her teal hoodie. "Director of Special Operations, Task Force 7. August 14, 2018. A training facility in Northern California. It was logged as an accidental live-fire discharge during a night entry drill."
Viktor’s jaw tightened. The name Gabriel Miller hit him like a physical blow. The room seemed to shrink, the soft afternoon light turning harsh and sterile.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Viktor lied, his voice dropping into a low, defensive growl as he slowly pushed himself up from the floor. "I’ve run this dojo for fifteen years. I’m a civilian contractor."
"You were the lead hand-to-hand combat instructor for Project Blackwood," Emma said calmly, stepping closer. "You were paid eighty thousand dollars in untraceable bearer bonds to corrupt the safety protocols on the shoot-house targets that night. My father took three rounds to the chest because you altered the pop-up target sequence."
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Sarah took a step forward, her voice breaking into a dry sob. "Emma... please. We agreed... we were just going to leave town."
"We can't leave, Mom," Emma said, her eyes never leaving Viktor. "He knows who we are now. He’s known since the day you applied for the cleaning job."
