An Unexpected Ally

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then, Jared exhaled sharply. "If this article got buried, then someone went to a lot of trouble to keep it hidden."

Tricia clenched her fists. "Which means we're closer to the truth than they ever wanted."

Frank tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. "I thought I'd buried this story for good. But if Lorne is still out there, someone needs to finish what I started."

Tricia met his gaze. "Then help us."

Frank studied her, then smirked. "You've got guts, I'll give you that." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled business card. "There's a name on the back. Used to be one of Lorne's researchers before he disappeared. If anyone can tell you where to find him, it's her."

Tricia flipped the card over.

Dr. Evelyn Porter.

A chill ran down her spine. She recognized the name.

Because Evelyn Porter had signed one of the experiment reports in the S.O.L.A.C.E. files.

Frank stood, tossing some cash onto the table. "Watch your back, kid. If you keep digging, they're gonna come for you."

Tricia pocketed the card, her mind already racing with the next move.

"Let them," she said. "I'm not running anymore."

The Man in the Black Suit

The Chicago air was crisp as Tricia, Jared, and Reed stepped out of the bar. The weight of Frank Carter's revelations pressed heavy on her chest. Dr. Evelyn Porter. A name pulled straight from the classified files of Project S.O.L.A.C.E. If she was still alive, she could be the key to uncovering the truth about Lorne, and Tricia's past.

But as they crossed the street, a strange sensation crept up Tricia's spine. Someone was watching.

She didn't stop walking, but she subtly glanced at her reflection in a storefront window. A man stood at the corner, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His posture was rigid, his face unreadable. But it wasn't just his presence that unsettled her.

It was the fact that she knew him.

Her mind scrambled through fractured memories, but nothing came into focus. Just a feeling, this man wasn't just an observer. He was a ghost from her past.

Jared must have sensed her tension. "What is it?"

"Don't turn around," she murmured. "There's a man in a black suit. He's watching us."

Reed, ever the professional, didn't break stride. "Friend or enemy?"

Tricia exhaled. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

The three of them ducked into an alleyway. Tricia positioned herself behind a rusted dumpster, waiting.

Seconds later, the man followed.

She stepped into his path, gun raised. "Who the hell are you?"

The man didn't flinch. Up close, his face was sharp, his eyes calculating. He was older than she remembered, but the familiarity was undeniable.

"You don't remember me, do you?" His voice was smooth, edged with something unreadable.

Tricia tightened her grip on the gun. "Should I?"

His lips quirked into the barest hint of a smirk. "They really did a number on you."

Jared stepped forward, his stance tense. "Answer the question. Who are you?"

The man lifted his hands slightly. "I'm not your enemy, Tricia. I've been watching over you for a long time."

She stiffened. "Why?"

"Because you were never supposed to be alone."

A cold chill ran through her. "That's not an answer."

The man sighed and slowly reached into his jacket. Reed reacted instantly, drawing his own gun. "Careful."

The man smirked and pulled out an old, yellowed photograph. He held it up for Tricia to see.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The picture showed a much younger version of herself, maybe five or six years old. Standing beside her was the man in the black suit.

And beneath it, written in faded ink, was a name.

Nathan Hale.

Tricia's entire body went rigid.

Hale.

The same last name she had grown up with.

The man's gaze softened. "I'm your brother."

Rekindling memories

Tricia's world tilted.

Brother.

The word felt foreign, out of place, like an echo from a life she had never lived. She stared at the man in the black suit, Nathan Hale. Her brother. But she had no memories of him. No recollection of a sibling, a family, or a past that included anyone who truly knew her before S.O.L.A.C.E. erased it all.

Jared and Reed exchanged tense glances, waiting for her to respond. But Tricia couldn't.

Nathan exhaled, his expression softening. "I don't expect you to trust me. But I can give you answers."

Tricia swallowed the lump in her throat. "Then prove it."

Nathan nodded. "Come with me."

The Facility That Shouldn't Exist

Hours later, they arrived at the outskirts of Chicago, deep in an industrial wasteland where rusted factories stood like forgotten skeletons. Nathan led them to a chain-link fence, cutting through it with practiced ease. Beyond the fence, an old research facility loomed, its windows shattered, its walls stained with decay.

"This is where it all started," Nathan said quietly.

Tricia hesitated before stepping inside. The moment she crossed the threshold, something deep inside her stirred, an eerie familiarity that sent shivers through her spine. The walls were covered in peeling paint, the air thick with the scent of damp concrete and something far worse, sterilization chemicals mixed with decay.

Jared swept a flashlight across the abandoned hallways, illuminating faded warning signs.

> AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

BIOHAZARD CONTAINMENT ZONE.

PROJECT S.O.L.A.C.E. RESEARCH DIVISION.

Tricia's stomach churned. She had been here before.

Nathan led them deeper into the building, his footsteps deliberate. "I've been tracking Lorne for years. This was one of his first labs. It shut down over a decade ago, but there's something here he never wanted anyone to find."

Tricia followed, her pulse hammering. The deeper they went, the more the walls seemed to close in. Flashes of memory flickered in her mind,cold metal tables, the sting of needles, voices whispering words she didn't understand.

Then they reached a heavy steel door, rusted at the edges. Nathan pulled out a crowbar, wedging it into the frame until the lock snapped. The door groaned open.

And inside,

Tricia froze.

Rows of medical beds lined the room, each containing a decayed corpse strapped in place. The air was thick with the stench of death, but it wasn't just the sight of the bodies that made her blood turn to ice.

It was the fact that some of them were children.

Jared muttered a curse, stepping back. "What the hell is this?"

Nathan's jaw clenched. "Proof."

Reed scanned the room, his face unreadable. "This wasn't just an experiment. It was a slaughterhouse."

Tricia felt sick. She stepped closer to one of the decayed bodies, her hands trembling. A metal tag was still attached to the wrist.

> T-048

Her breath hitched. Another test subject.

She moved to another body. T-049. Then another. T-050.

One after the other, they all had identification numbers. Just like her.

Her chest tightened. How many children had they experimented on? How many never made it out?

Nathan's voice was grim. "Lorne used this place to perfect his 'conditioning techniques.' The subjects who didn't survive were left behind, erased." He turned to Tricia. "You weren't supposed to make it, either."

A chill crawled down her spine. "Then why did I?"

Nathan exhaled. "Because you weren't just another subject. You were the key to everything. And Maya, she must have figured that out."

Jared turned to him, his eyes dark with anger. "Where is Lorne now?"

Nathan hesitated. "I don't know. But whatever he's planning, he isn't done."

Tricia clenched her fists. She looked at the remains of those who never had a chance, those whose names had been buried and forgotten. She had survived when they hadn't.

And now, she was going to make sure their deaths weren't in vain.

"Then we find him," she said, her voice cold as steel. "And we end this.”