Chapter 13 - The Mysterious Package
On a quiet evening in late October, as autumn leaves drifted across the estate's driveway, a priority courier arrived at the main gate.
The courier handed Marcus a wooden crate wrapped in heavy burlap, sealed with black industrial tape.
The package bore no mailing address or postage stamps, only a single burnt symbol etched into the wood: a trident wrapped in chain links.
David opened the crate inside his secure study, using a crowbar to carefully pry open the thick wooden lid.
Inside lay an old, water-damaged ship's logbook wrapped in oiled leather, along with a rusted brass compass.
David opened the logbook, flipping through pages stained with salt water and dried blood from fifteen years ago.
The last entry in the logbook was dated three days after Richard Harrison's official recorded date of death.
"The boat explosion was staged by the syndicate... I survived and am being held at the Blackwood Facility in Maine."
David's hand began to shake as he read his dead friend's actual handwriting, realization striking him like a bolt of lightning.
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Richard Harrison was not dead; he was being held captive in a private black-site facility on the East Coast.
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