Everything was at stake if Gray and his new friends fully unraveled their secret.

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 33

Marnie Young sat cross-legged in one of the far corners of Helen Gray’s vault, sifting through the last of the Branson file papers. She’d been up most of the night absorbing as much of the information Helen had assembled as possible, in the order Karl Berg had recommended—which ended with the accordion file in front of her.

Rich sat next to her in the corner, his legs extended along the evidence wall. She handed him the packet she’d just finished, which he started reading without comment. Marnie had made her peace with Rich and Karl last night during their lengthy drive around Baltimore. Cleared the air might be a better description. She still intended to keep a close eye on the two of them, until they fully earned her trust. Marnie got the impression it wouldn’t take long. They seemed just as vested in getting to the bottom of what Devin’s mother had uncovered as Devin—and now Marnie.

After spending close to six hours digesting Helen Gray’s documentation, there was no doubt in her mind that the conspiracy was real, and possibly worse than Devin’s mother had believed. The double-layered attack on Devin last night demonstrated that the Russians were desperate to erase this evidence and anyone who had seen it. Now they were all targets. Something Berg said last night had stuck with her. She hadn’t known what it meant at the time, but it made perfect sense now. They’d crossed the point of no return.

She skimmed the last few packets, having seen enough. Berg’s overview last night painted a clear enough picture. They needed to find this suspected camp in the Ozarks, if it even still existed, to lend credibility to the entire conspiracy. This second generation of sleepers couldn’t have been radicalized at home. She had no doubt that their home lives were strictly regulated to ensure that they remained loyal to Mother Russia, but Helen Gray was right. The Russians would need a way to test and reinforce this loyalty.

One break in allegiance could burn the entire conspiracy down, and it was clear from the research that thirty-seven children pressed into service to the Russian Federation from birth had been murdered to maintain the program’s secrecy. The thought of it was spine-tingling. Parents had delivered their children to their executions, or at the very least looked the other way when the grim reaper came knocking.

She passed the rest of the packets to Rich.

“Seen enough?” he asked.

“Yep,” she said.

He dropped them on the pile he’d built on his lap. “Me too. The whole thing is mind-boggling, but the Branson file is just sick. They ran a brainwashing camp right in the heartland of the country, complete with firing squads and everything. Unbelievable.”