Clear Water, Hidden Danger

Chapter 22 – The Jackson Protocol - Part 1

The briefing room beneath NorthStar was colder than the rest of the clinic. Concrete walls. Exposed conduit. A single flickering light overhead. It used to be a storage cellar, but now it was the only place quiet enough to speak without the generators drowning out the truth.

Major Jeremy Jackson locked the steel door behind him and set a battered field case on the table. Waiting for him were Captain Deacon, Captain Baker, Captain Shava Bilew-Jackson, and Dr. Ethan Mercer — the last surviving civilian engineer from Stafford’s ECHO Research Wing.

All of them looked worn down. Seventy-two hours of siege, almost no sleep, and the realization that the thing they helped build had turned into a predator.

Jackson didn’t sit.

“We don’t have long,” he said. “So this is going to be direct.”

Mercer rubbed his eyes. “We know why we’re here, Major.”

Jackson shook his head. “You think you do. I’m going to make sure none of you misunderstand what happens next.”

He opened the field case.

Inside were archival drives stamped with old StratCom seals. One drive had a number burned into the metal:

CW-27

Bilew-Jackson stiffened. “You brought that here?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Jackson said. “Everything always led back to Clear Water.”

Baker asked, “Sir… how long have you known the plant was involved?”

Jackson looked him dead in the eye.

“Since before any of you enlisted.”

Silence locked the room down.

Mercer leaned forward. “So the deployment files were real. They actually placed a subject there.”

“Correct.”

“And one was assigned specifically to Clear Water.”

Jackson nodded.

“Subject 27.”

Bilew-Jackson's voice dropped. “You’re telling me the man running security there — he’s one of the subjects?”

Jackson corrected her.

“One of theirs. We inherited the program. We didn’t design it.”

Deacon swore under his breath.

Jackson continued.

“Subject 27 went through the Neural Cleanse trials in 2009. High retention. Stable vitals. Perfect pattern alignment. Most candidates broke under the signal. He didn’t.”

Mercer added quietly, “Which made him dangerous.”

Baker frowned. “Dangerous how?”

“Because if someone can withstand the pulse without their brain tearing itself apart,” Mercer said, “it means the signal doesn’t fight them. It works with them. If he ever gets exposed to the carrier frequency again…”

Bilew-Jackson finished it.

“…he won’t break. He’ll sync.”

No one spoke.

Sync meant one thing: influence.

Over anything already attuned to the system.

Jackson opened the drive that Neal had carried to Clear Water.

“Before Stafford fell, I was ordered to deliver this to Subject 27 only if the pulse cycle stopped. That would mean the network evolved beyond containment. In that scenario, he is the only asset left who might interface with it.”

Mercer went pale. “You think after all these years he still has retention?”

Jackson let out a humorless laugh.

“Doctor… if he didn’t, those creatures wouldn’t have followed his convoy for twenty miles. They weren’t hunting. They were reacting to him.”

Baker’s voice shook. “Like they were picking up a scent.”

“Responding,” Jackson corrected. “And the moment he wasn’t physically present—”

“They attacked,” Bilew-Jackson said.

Everyone knew what that meant:

Subject 27 wasn’t just part of the old system.
He was still linked to it.

Mercer whispered, “What if showing him those files doesn’t just trigger memory? What if it reactivates him?”

“That’s the point,” Jackson said. “We need him awake.”

“And if he turns on us?” Deacon asked.

Jackson looked down at the CW-27 drive.

“Then we have a problem none of us can fix.”

The silence was suffocating.

Above them, through the concrete, a deep vibration rumbled.

Mercer flinched. “That sound—”

“The southern conduits,” Jackson said. “They’re shifting again.”

Baker swallowed. “Then we’re out of time.”

Jackson shut the case and straightened up.

“Prep the comm lines. Reinforce NorthStar. And pray Clear Water doesn’t fall before he sees what’s on that drive.”

Bilew-Jackson asked quietly, “And if he remembers everything?”

Jackson didn’t hesitate.

“Then the pulse system gains either its strongest ally…”

“…or its deadliest enemy.”

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ANONYMOUS FIELD LOG — ENTRY ALPHA
CLASSIFIED — PROJECT ECHO CLEARANCE REQUIRED:
CWP maintained steady function during this cycle while Subject Zero remained off-site activity–neutral due to injury recovery. Internal morale showed mild decline as outbound scavenger team remained overdue, prompting increased patrol rotations along the north and east fences. A minor electrical fault in the admin corridor triggered a temporary systems check, but no resonance signatures accompanied the fluctuation. Civilian volunteers assisted Cruz in reorganizing the med bay after recent supply depletion, and nighttime guard posts reported intermittent movement in the tree-line that did not escalate to Phase III confirmation. Facility cohesion intact; no indication of Anchor-related instability during absence.
========================================
ANONYMOUS FIELD LOG — ENTRY BRAVO
CLASSIFIED — PROJECT ECHO
Briefing confirms officers unaware of Anchor-level classification. Mercer validated subject deployment accuracy. Jackson intends to use archival drive to trigger recall in Anchor. Risk level acknowledged. Southern conduits responded during meeting, suggesting system anticipation. Infiltration remains undetected. Continue observation until Anchor reaches clinic perimeter.