Chapter 3
Chapter Three
MIA
My signature is everywhere, implicating me in every unauthorized access and missing shipment.
And that’s not the worst part.
I stare at the screen as a wave of nausea and betrayal rolls through me. Dr. Xiang, my mentor, has not only been using my name, but there’s an email string between him and this unidentified employee ID, with dates and times of every shipment of deuterium we’ve ever received.
An email string that looks as if it was sent by me.
My hands tremble as I take screenshots of the files and download them to my secure tablet. It hits hard when I realize what I’m looking at. I have to prove that I didn’t sign those logs. My career, my freedom, everything is at risk.
The fear of being framed for something I didn’t do grips me.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I need to prove my innocence, but I have to be careful. I can’t risk anyone discovering what I’m doing.
I start by digging deeper into Dr. Xiang’s computer files, searching for anything that might help me. It takes some time, but I finally find what I’m looking for—access logs for the supply locker, complete with video footage. I quickly transfer those files to my secure tablet, always making sure to cover my tracks.
I spend hours poring over the logs and footage, comparing the timestamps to my own schedule. I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize I was in meetings or off-site during some of the instances when the locker was accessed. It’s not conclusive proof, but it’s a start.
Next, I focus on the video footage. The quality isn’t great, but I enhance a few key frames. The figure entering the supply locker is wearing a lab coat, but their face is obscured. I can’t make out any identifying features, but I notice something odd—the figure seems to be using a key card that looks different from the ones issued to our team, and there’s that symbol again—哨兵—instead of Red Phoenix’s company logo.
I make a note of this detail, hoping it might lead me to the real culprit. I also take screenshots of the email string between Dr. Xiang and the unidentified employee, making sure to highlight the discrepancies in the language and tone compared to my own writing style.
There are only a few reasons why someone would need such large quantities of deuterium, and none of them are good. My work in cancer research relies on a steady but small supply, but the sheer volume of missing deuterium points to something far more dangerous.
But what are my options?
I could confront Dr. Xiang directly and show him what I’ve found. But what if he’s involved? What if he’s the one who’s been framing me? I can’t take that risk.
I could also go to the authorities, but I quickly dismiss that idea. Without concrete evidence, it would be my word against Dr. Xiang’s, and he’s a respected figure in the scientific community. I need more proof before I can make any accusations.
For a moment, I consider leaving, just packing up my things and disappearing, but I quickly push that thought aside. I can’t abandon my work, my colleagues, everything I’ve built here. My loyalty to the company runs deep, and I have to see this through .
I search Dr. Xiang’s files, hoping to find something, anything, that will shed light on the situation.
And then, I see it: a document buried deep within layers of encryption. It takes me a while to crack the code, but when I do, my blood runs cold.
The deuterium isn’t just being stolen. It’s being systematically diverted from my lab and shipped to another facility. The implications are staggering. The production of nuclear weapons requires a significant amount of deuterium, and the quantities being shipped out match those requirements. Dr. Xiang, my mentor and the man I trusted, is potentially involved in something far more ominous than I could have imagined.
My hands tremble as I read through the details, my heart pounding. I can’t be a part of this.
I won’t be a part of this.
I can’t stay. Not anymore. If Dr. Xiang discovers I know what he’s been doing, my life could be in danger. I make a decision that will change the course of my life forever. I have to get this information to someone who can do something about it.
As I weigh my options, my thoughts drift to my parents. My father, a Chinese diplomat, and my mother, an American citizen, had always navigated the complexities of international relations with grace and integrity. They taught me the importance of doing what’s right, even when it’s difficult.
Growing up, I witnessed firsthand the delicate balance of power between nations and the importance of transparency and accountability. My father often spoke of the need for countries to work together to address global threats, and he instilled in me a deep respect for the rule of law and the value of international cooperation.
In this moment of crisis, I know that my father would want me to do what’s best for the greater good, even if it means going against my own government.
The evidence I’ve uncovered points to a threat that extends far beyond China’s borders, and I can’t ignore the potential global consequences. My mother’s American roots also influence my decision.
The U.S. has always been a symbol of justice and freedom to me, and the embassy will take my concerns seriously. They have the resources and the influence to investigate this matter thoroughly and to hold those responsible accountable.
I quickly gather my things, my mind racing with plans and contingencies.
My heart is heavy with the weight of my decision; I take one last look around. This place has been my home, my life, for so long, but I’m doing the right thing. I’m running to stop a catastrophe and prevent a weapon of unimaginable destruction from falling into the wrong hands.
And I won’t stop running until I’ve seen this through to the end. My hands shake, and a queasy feeling settles in my gut.
I’ve always taken immense pride in my work and in the integrity of my research, but I’ve been unwittingly complicit in something much darker—something larger than corporate espionage or ethical misconduct.
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I tread dangerous ground. If the people orchestrating this nightmare realize I’ve uncovered their secret, there’s no telling what they might do to protect it.
Who am I to do anything about this?
I’m just one person.
What if I’m wrong? The download of the damning files onto my tablet continues. File after file is copied over, the progress bar creeping along at an agonizingly slow pace. Each passing second feels like an eternity, the threat of discovery looming over my head.
Who is 哨兵? And what do they plan on doing with the deuterium?
Once the download is complete, I stare at the tablet like it’s a venomous snake. I don’t want it anywhere near me. But it holds the truth.
I rise from my chair, body leaden with the burden of this terrible knowledge.
I have to get this to someone who can do something about it .
First things first, I put my tablet into airplane mode, severing it from the internet. As long as it stays disconnected, Red Phoenix can’t remotely log on and discover what I’ve done.
I tuck the tablet under my arm and pretend today is like any other day, praying my knees don’t buckle from the adrenaline coursing through me.
All I have to do is carry the tablet out of the facility, but then I’m jolted from my thoughts by a sudden knock on the lab’s door.
They found me.