Chapter 42
Forty-Two
OPERATION ECLIPSE: PHASE ONE – MULTIPLE ARRESTS
Penitentiary Medical Office – Sublevel C
Pratt looked up from his clipboard just as the door opened, expecting one of the nurses. Instead, two Waverly County deputies and a federal agent stepped inside, flanking both sides of the narrow office.
“Medical Specialist Craig Pratt?” the lead agent asked.
“Uh—yeah. Why?”
“Stand and place your hands on the desk.”
“What? What’s going on?—?”
“You’re under arrest for obstruction of justice, conspiracy to commit aggravated assault, and unlawful facilitation of human experimentation.”
The color drained from Pratt’s face. “You can’t… This has to be a mistake. I didn’t?—”
The second deputy already had him cuffed. “You can explain it to the federal prosecutor.”
As they hauled him away, they walked him straight past two stunned nurses and a plainclothes IT forensics agent already seizing his workstation.
Dr. Elaine Fields’ Residence – Waverly Heights, 11:07 a.m.
She answered the door in scrubs, keys in hand, expecting to head to work.
Instead, she found Graham Cullen and Brad Killian on her doorstep.
“Dr. Elaine Fields,” Brad said smoothly. “You’re coming with us.”
She froze. “What? Why? Has something happened at the prison?”
Graham’s voice was iron. “We know what you did. You helped Elias Ward—or should I say Elias Fields?—to come and go undetected. You never registered his birth. You doctored medical records. You lied to investigators. You stood by and let innocent people be turned into lab rats.”
Her face broke. “I… I tried to stop it.”
“No, you didn’t,” Brad cut in. “You let it happen.” He turned her around gently but firmly, cuffing her wrists. “You were right about one thing, though. It is over.”
She didn’t resist.
As they walked her down the steps, her voice broke behind them, “Tell Sybil I’m sorry.”
Warden Shepler’s Office – Administrative Block, 12:39 p.m.
Ethan entered with two U.S. Marshals, badge clipped to his belt, warrant in hand.
Warden Shepler barely looked up from her desk. “I assume this isn’t a courtesy visit.”
“No,” Ethan said flatly. “I think you know why we’re here.”
She glanced toward her security console, already dead. It had been jammed remotely fifteen minutes earlier.
“I want my attorney.”
“You’ll get one.”
“Am I being charged?”
“Multiple counts,” Ethan said, stepping forward. “Obstruction, endangerment, conspiracy to cover up unlawful experimentation, and trafficking human subjects.”
She sat back in her chair, smiling faintly. “You’re a little late, Agent.”
Ethan stared at her, unmoving. “It’s FBI Special Agent Hayes, and I’m right on time.”
The marshals took her by the arms and escorted her out through the main hall. Her staff watched in frozen silence as their warden was marched out under federal custody.
Harbor Ridge Marina – Near the Fort Pierre-Missouri River Boat Docks, 1:11 p.m.
Stokes was halfway through fueling his boat when the agents appeared. By the time he spotted them, it was too late.
Noah stepped onto the dock, vest on, firearm visible. “Nathan Stokes. Don't run.”
Stokes took one look at the approaching line of tactical vests and raised both hands, fake calm on his face. “You people have no idea what you’re walking into.”
“We’re counting on it,” Noah said coldly. “You were the ghost in the wires. You funded the shell companies. You coordinated drops, buried logs, and you lied to every single agency who trusted you.”
“I did what I had to,” Stokes spat. “You don’t understand the stakes.”
“No,” Noah said, stepping in. “You don’t understand ours.”
Stokes was cuffed and led off the dock under full escort. The walls had closed in.
Operation Eclipse: Phase Two – The War Room Command Center at the Technical Center of the College at Waverly Junction – 3:20 p.m.
The table was covered in blueprints. Topographical maps. Power grid overlays. Elias’s flash drive had revealed everything—entry points, sub-level layouts, rotating guard patterns. Even biometric access fail-safes.
Charlotte turned to Ethan. “You’re at the biggest risk. You’re disobeying a direct order. They could fire you. I’d understand if you stood down.”
Ethan folded his arms tightly across his chest, jaw locked, eyes sharp as steel. “If they fire me to protect this,” he said, voice low and unwavering, “the job’s not worth it.” He didn’t blink. Didn’t shift. He meant every word—and made sure everyone in the room knew it.
Graham pointed to the map. “Primary structure is buried beneath a wildlife refuge. Technically, it doesn’t exist on any federal registry. No heat signatures. No satellite movement. It was designed to disappear.”
Ethan nodded. “We’ll make sure it can’t disappear again.”
Brad leaned over the schematics. “We’ll split the team—Entry A through the old service tunnel. Entry B rappels in through the hatch line Monroe used to sneak dead subjects out.”
Noah tapped a highlighted section. “We disable power here. It’ll kill external comms and trigger emergency lockdown protocols. That gives us thirty minutes to get in and pull out survivors.”
“And plant the charges to blow the place sky-high,” Ethan added.
Tristan spoke from the corner, arms folded. “Sybil Vance is on the inside. She can guide you to the surviving subjects and the medications. Our IT will gather the server files, including the Echo files.”
“She truly wants out?” Graham asked.
Charlotte joined, still pale but steady. “She wants redemption,” she said. “And she’s going to help us get it.”
They all turned to her.
“You good?” Brad asked.
“No,” she said honestly, “but I’m ready.”
They all understood the difference.
This wasn’t just about taking down a facility. It was about ending a system. And they were going to war.
Next stop: the black site.