Chapter 7 - Minh Lin’s SecretMaya drove home so quickly she missed her normal exit.
Minh was in the garage behind their house when she arrived.
An old pickup sat on jack stands.
He was underneath it.
“Dad.”
Metal clinked.
“Kitchen.”
“No.”
Silence.
Minh slid out.
He saw her face.
Then he sighed.
“She told you.”
Maya stared.
“You know General Vance.”
“Come inside.”
“No.”
“Maya.”
“How?”
Minh wiped his hands on a rag.
The evening light entered through the open garage door.
For the first time in her life, Maya looked at her father and realized there were years inside him she knew nothing about.
“Sit.”
She remained standing.
Minh sat on an overturned bucket.
“Before you were born, I worked at a civilian repair facility near Fort Bragg.”
Maya folded her arms.
“I know.”
“You know I fixed cars.”
“Yes.”
“You do not know which cars.”
She waited.
“Government vehicles sometimes.”
Maya’s anger softened into confusion.
“Why would General Vance know you?”
Minh looked toward the old pickup.
“Because twenty-four years ago, she was a Lieutenant Colonel.”
Maya blinked.
“She came to the shop during a hurricane evacuation.”
Minh smiled faintly at the memory.
“Everyone was moving equipment inland. Trucks everywhere. Rain so hard we could not see the road.”
He rubbed his hands.
“One transport had steering problem. People said wait until morning.”
“What transport?”
“Command vehicle.”
“General Vance’s?”
“She was not General then.”
Maya almost laughed from frustration.
“Dad.”
“Yes. Her vehicle.”
“What happened?”
“I fixed it.”
“That’s it?”
Minh looked at her.
“No.”
Rain began tapping lightly against the garage roof.
“While I repaired it, another truck came in. Driver was young soldier. Exhaust system broke. He had been carrying evacuees from low housing area.”
Minh’s voice became quieter.
“There was no time.”
“So what did you do?”
“I took parts from my own van.”
Maya stared.
“You dismantled your van?”
“It was ugly van.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
Minh smiled.
“No, it does not.”
He continued.
“I repaired both. They left before water covered the road.”
“And Vance remembered?”
“Apparently.”
Maya shook her head.
“That still doesn’t explain why she said you picked something up for her.”
Minh looked toward the shelf above his workbench.
There was an old wooden box.
He reached for it.
Opened it.
Inside was a faded photograph.
A much younger Evelyn Vance stood in rain-soaked fatigues beside a civilian mechanic.
Minh.
Both were covered in mud.
Maya took the photograph.
“What happened?”
“Her cover blew off.”
Maya looked up.
Minh shrugged.
“I picked it up.”
The coincidence sent a strange chill through her.
Minh continued.
“She tried to pay for repairs.”
“You refused.”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“They were evacuating families.”
He looked genuinely confused by the question.
“What kind of person charges extra during flood?”
Maya sat beside him.
“You kept this from me.”
“It was not important.”
“It was important enough for the Army Chief of Staff to remember twenty-four years later.”
Minh smiled faintly.
“That says more about her memory than my work.”
Maya stared at the photo.
Then another thought struck her.
“Is that the only reason she knows you?”
Minh’s smile disappeared.
Maya saw it immediately.
“Dad.”
He looked away.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing bad.”
“That is exactly what people say before describing something bad.”
He sighed.
“Three months ago, a Mercedes came into my shop.”
Maya slowly stood.
“No.”
Minh did not answer.
“A silver Mercedes?”
“Yes.”
Her heart began racing.
“Victoria Sterling’s car?”
“Yes.”
Maya stared at him.
“How?”
“She had noise from rear suspension. Dealer appointment was too far away. Someone recommended my shop.”
“Did you know whose car it was?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Minh looked suddenly older.
“I removed rear interior panel to reach mount.”
Maya already knew the answer.
“You found the compartment.”
“Yes.”
The garage seemed to shrink around her.
“What was inside?”
“A black case.”
Maya stopped breathing.
Minh continued.
“I thought maybe aftermarket electronics. But case had serial plate.”
“Military?”
“I recognized government inventory format from old contract work.”
“What did you do?”
“I took picture.”
Maya stared at him.
“And?”
“I called the number.”
“What number?”
“Army CID tip line.”
Maya covered her mouth.
Her father had started the investigation.
Minh continued.
“Agents came that night.”
“You never told me.”
“I was ordered not to.”
“You let me work on the same installation where—”
“I did not know you would be involved.”
His voice cracked for the first time.
“You think I would allow that?”
Maya stopped.
Minh stood.
“They photographed compartment. Documented case. Told me to repair car normally.”
“What was in the case?”
“They did not tell me.”
“Did they take it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“They needed to know where it went.”
Maya’s anger turned to dread.
“So they put it back.”
“Yes.”
“And Victoria drove away.”
“Yes.”
Maya thought of the checkpoint.
The case.
General Vance’s stare.
The hidden compartment.
“Dad…”
Minh nodded.
“The case you saw may have been the same one.”
Maya stared at him.
“General Vance came because of you.”
“No.”
“You reported it.”
“I reported a strange box.”
“That started everything.”
Minh shook his head.
“Someone had to notice.”
Maya laughed once, emotionally overwhelmed.
“You.”
He looked confused.
“What?”
“You always say that.”
“Say what?”
“That people make hero stories too complicated.”
Minh frowned.
Maya wiped suddenly wet eyes.
“You tell me heroes are usually just people who notice something and refuse to walk away.”
Minh looked down.
“I am not hero.”
“I know.”
He looked offended.
Maya laughed through her tears.
“I mean—you’re my dad.”
“That is worse.”
She wrapped her arms around him.
For several seconds, they stood in the garage smelling of motor oil and summer rain.
Then Minh whispered something against her hair.
“Maya.”
“What?”
“There is more.”
She pulled away.
His face had gone pale.
“What?”
“The case I found three months ago…”
May you like
He swallowed.
“It was not the first.”
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