From Chapter 28: The fall of Chimera
Page 305…
George raised his gaze. His red eyes were empty, like a man who had surrendered to his fate.
“It wasn’t my decision. The interests were enormous…”
“Don’t talk to me about interests!” he cut him off. “You’re not in a TV studio with staged journalists. Geopolitical plans, superpowers… What does any of that have to do with a ‘gas leak’? Unless it wasn’t just an accident.”
“Some secrets,” he whispered, “are better left buried. For the good of everyone.”
“Look out for your own good for now,” Bell replied meaningfully. “A month later, a CEO of the country’s commercial railways was killed in a “car accident.” He lost control of his car and fell off a clif. We know that certain ‘allies’ use such methods to cover their tracks. What did they have to do with the explosion?”
Monroe’s gaze was lost, submerged in an internal vortex of guilt. Bell cut him off from the options.
“I know what really happened that afternoon. It happened regularly for two years and stopped abruptly that day. I want the world to see you spit it out — without me feeding you the answer. Choose your words… carefully.”
Monroe did not answer immediately. The question echoed in his ears like a drone. He took a deep, trembling breath. His eyes moist and full of despair, he almost whispered.
“Can you… can you protect my family if I talk? They… they’re not to blame for anything. I don’t care about myself. I’ve accepted my fate.”
The voice from the speakers sounded steady and full of certainty.
“I can, and I already am. No dramatic moves are needed. The leaders of the major interests, those who benefited from the darkness, have been informed by their political pawns. Anyone who dares to touch your family will cease to exist in less than 24 hours.”
Monroe opened his mouth, but the words were slow to come out. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to erase the images of pain and horror that haunted him. His body began to tremble.
“I’ve seen the original videos… the ones that were ‘lost’…”
Tears began to stream uncontrollably down his cheeks. The time had come to expel the truth that poisoned him in his sleep every night.
“My God… The workers… they weren’t just killed… They were turned to ash. At the station… people were crushed as if they were ants…”
The atmosphere in the cellar was heavy as lead. Sobs filled the room, momentarily interrupting the confession. Bell waited silently for him to compose himself. After a while, he raised his gaze again. His face was red and swollen from the tears.
“It was ammunition being transported via the trains. Classified. It wasn’t supposed to be visible anywhere. If we’d used separate, dedicated routes as the law requires, our enemies could have easily calculated the quantities being shipped and their destinations.”
His words came out with difficulty, between shivers and sobs. Bell’s voice cut through — cold and sharp:
“Pull yourself together. What enemies, George? We are not at war. And why was everything cleared away so quickly?”
“We aren’t, but our allies are. We were supplying their operations with our own reserves. Illegally, it never went through parliament. As for the speed of the restoration, that’s easy to understand. The traces of, in reality, theft, had to be covered up, along with the rubble that betrayed the shoddy workmanship at the station, before the victims’ investigators could start their own inquiries.”
Silence fell once more in the cellar. Monroe, lying on the bed, had nowhere to hide his tear-filled, shame-filled eyes. Bell’s voice came a minute later, quiet, disappointed, almost broken.
“That was the secret you wanted to bury, George? That was the reason for this whole cover-up? To protect the interests of your clique and of foreign powers? Is that why you insulted an entire nation?”
“Yes…”
An absolute silence followed. Monroe had time to compose himself. The tears dried on his face. His breathing steadied. Then, the voice from the speakers returned.
“Among the victims was a pregnant woman who was expecting her child. Are you aware of her case?”
“Yes, Catherine…”
“Her husband?”
“John. He took his own life after their loss.”
“You’re not as callous as I thought. You took an interest. No, George, he didn’t simply take his own life. He couldn’t be away from them, so he went to find them. He continues with them. His departure, however, left another child behind, a newborn.”
“No… That… That can’t be true. You’re mistaken…”
“Allow me to know better.”
…
