Chapter 3 - The Officer’s Secret
Maya didn't chase the footsteps.
Every instinct screamed at her to run deeper into the tunnel, but instinct wasn't enough.
Voss had predicted her movements twice.
That meant chasing him blindly was exactly what he wanted.
She backed toward the platform.
“Command, Brooks. Nobody enters this tunnel.”
The dispatcher sounded confused.
“Agent, target is inside.”
“Negative. He wants us inside.”
“How do you know?”
Maya looked at the photograph.
“Because he left me an invitation.”
She returned to the precinct eleven minutes later.
Mercer was still seated at the desk.
Lawson stood beside him.
Maya dropped the photograph in front of Ethan.
His face collapsed.
“Noah.”
“When was this picture taken?”
“I don't know.”
“Look carefully.”
Mercer picked it up with trembling hands.
Then he froze.
“That jacket.”
“What?”
“Noah bought it last week.”
“Anything else?”
Mercer studied the background.
A concrete wall.
Metal shelving.
A faded red number.
17.
“I know that place.”
Maya leaned forward.
“Where?”
“Old municipal vehicle depot on Carson.”
Lawson grabbed his radio.
Maya stopped him.
“No sirens.”
Lawson understood.
“You think it's another trap?”
“I think everything is a trap until we prove otherwise.”
Within minutes, Maya assembled a small team.
No lights.
No sirens.
No marked vehicles.
Mercer insisted on going.
Maya refused.
“He's my brother.”
“And you're compromised.”
“I can help.”
“You already helped Voss.”
The words hurt him.
Maya didn't soften them.
“You want to help Noah? Tell me everything.”
Mercer nodded.
For the next five minutes, he did.
Every message.
Every instruction.
Every threat.
Then he remembered something.
“Voss asked about shift changes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“What specifically?”
“When Lawson leaves.”
Maya looked at the captain.
Lawson frowned.
“Why me?”
Maya didn't know.
Yet.
The tactical team reached the depot at 5:02.
The building was silent.
Maya entered through a side door.
Dust floated in narrow beams of evening light.
They moved between abandoned vehicles.
Then she heard breathing.
“Maya.”
An agent pointed.
Chair.
Man.
Bound.
Maya rushed forward.
Noah Mercer was alive.
Barely conscious, dehydrated, terrified—but alive.
She cut the tape from his mouth.
“FBI. You're safe.”
Noah shook his head violently.
“No.”
“You're safe now.”
“No!”
His eyes widened.
“He wanted you to find me.”
Maya froze.
“Who?”
“Voss.”
“Why?”
Noah looked toward the ceiling.
“He said when you came…”
Click.
Maya heard it.
A relay.
“MOVE!”
Everyone dove behind vehicles.
But no explosion came.
Instead, every overhead light switched on.
A projector illuminated the far wall.
Daniel Voss appeared on-screen.
Recorded video.
He smiled.
“Hello, Agent Brooks.”
Maya stared.
“If you're watching this, congratulations. You found Noah.”
Voss stepped closer to the camera.
“But you still don't understand what you're chasing.”
The image changed.
Documents appeared.
Bank records.
Police files.
Photographs.
Then Captain Lawson.
Maya’s expression hardened.
Voss continued.
“The classified keys aren't my insurance.”
A pause.
“They're evidence.”
Maya looked at Noah.
“What evidence?”
Noah whispered:
“Corruption.”
The video ended.
Then Maya’s phone rang.
Captain Lawson.
She answered.
“Maya.”
His voice sounded strained.
“You need to come back.”
“What happened?”
“Mercer’s gone.”
Maya straightened.
“What?”
“He escaped custody.”
“How?”
Silence.
Then Lawson said:
“He took my access card.”
Maya looked again at the frozen image of Lawson on the wall.
Suddenly she wasn't sure who was hunting whom.
And when she checked the files Voss had projected, she found one transaction that made her heart stop.
A payment.
Two hundred thousand dollars.
Recipient:
May you like
RICHARD LAWSON.
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