Brad let out a short, low laugh. “He’s dead, Doctor. And he was a prisoner. Confidentiality doesn’t apply anymore.”
Her jaw set. “It’s about ethics, not just legality.”
Alex tried again, voice smooth. “We’re not here to make trouble. We just need clarity. Did Ward ever mention the name Rook?”
Fields folded her arms tighter. “I really can’t help you.”
Alex glanced at Brad, who stepped forward. “You’re wasting our time with your games, Doctor,” he said, voice dropping. “You were close to him. You spent more hours with Gideon Ward than anyone in this building. Don’t pretend you didn’t know him.”
She flinched—barely—but it was there. A flicker in her eyes.
Brad leaned on the desk, close enough that she had to look up at him. “So let’s stop playing.”
Fields looked at Alex again, maybe for rescue. He said nothing.
“Ward said the name Rook, didn’t he?” Brad pressed.
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“And?”
The silence in the infirmary office stretched, heavy as the concrete it was made from. Dr. Fields sat now, fingers laced tight in her lap, her guard slipping but not gone. Brad stood near the window, arms crossed, watching her like a man watching a fuse burn down.
Alex sat across from her, calm and kind as ever. “You cared about him,” he said gently.
She didn’t deny it. “When he was lucid, he was… sharp. Charming. But it wasn’t just the cancer that kept him talking. He wanted someone to know. Someone outside.”
“Know what?” Brad asked with a hard edge to his tone.
She looked at him, then back at Alex. “That he wasn’t going to let his son die in that place. That, whatever the project was—whatever the black site did to Elias—Ward knew what they were trying to build. And he beat them to it.”
Brad stepped forward. “What do you mean?”
“Elias,” she said. “Rook. Gideon trained him before they would get their hands on him. The same traits they wanted—obedience, endurance, tactical brilliance—Gideon taught him. Except he also taught him how to think for himself.”
Alex leaned in, eyebrows raised. “You’re saying Ward wanted to sabotage the project?”
She nodded. “He said Elias was smarter than all of them. That they wouldn’t see it coming.”
“Ward spent the last thirty years here,” Alex said, brow furrowed. “How old is Rook?”
Dr. Fields froze. Just for a second. Not enough for someone untrained to catch—but Brad saw it. That pause. That breath.
She shrugged, casual on the surface. “I don’t know. Gideon never said.”
But Brad had already stepped in front of Alex, tone sharpening like a blade. “Dr. Fields,” he said, eyes locked on hers. “How old is Rook?”
She didn’t answer.
Brad tilted his head, reading her face. “Mid- to late twenties. Quiet kid. Brilliant. Too brilliant to belong to just a test tube and a lab schedule.”
Her hands shifted in her lap. Subtle. Defensive.
Alex started to say something, but Brad raised a hand. “You’re Rook’s mother, aren’t you?”
Silence.
The air went cold.
