Calm, controlled. This is special agent Vanessa Reed. Linda looked over her shoulder. I think the police are looking for me. They are.
Linda froze. You You already know? We've been watching everything. Tears rolled down Linda's face. She's still there.
We know. They're hurting her. Vanessa glanced toward Daniel Carter inside the operations center. Daniel nodded once. Vanessa spoke firmly.
Linda, listen carefully. I'm listening. Do not go home. Okay. Do not go back to the store.
Okay. We're sending federal agents to your location. Linda leaned against the church wall, overwhelmed. So, she's really Vanessa smiled faintly. Yes, but that's all I can tell you.
Back in Red Creek, Travis's patience finally snapped. He turned toward Ryan. I'm done waiting. What do you want? Put her in the cruiser.
Ryan grabbed Nia's arm roughly. She didn't resist. As he led her toward the patrol car, he leaned close enough that no one else could hear. You know what happens after we leave here? Nia looked straight ahead.
No. You disappear into the system. He smiled. People stop asking questions. Nia answered quietly.
Not this time. Ryan opened the rear door. The metal cage inside reflected the late afternoon sun. He shoved her forward. Just before she climbed inside, Nia glanced toward the highway.
Still nothing. No black SUVs. No helicopters. No flashing federal lights. Only ordinary traffic moving beneath a cloudless Georgia sky.
For the first time since arriving in Red Creek, even she began calculating the possibility that the backup team might not arrive before Travis found a way to erase every trace of what had happened. At FBI headquarters, Daniel Carter watched the same scene unfold on the live feed. Malcolm Pierce's convoy was still 9 minutes away. 9 minutes. Daniel looked toward the operations room.
Every analyst had stopped talking. Every monitor displayed the same image. Nia Brooks standing beside a patrol cruiser, handcuffed, surrounded, alone. Daniel slowly picked up the secure radio. His voice remained calm, but everyone in the room heard the urgency beneath it.
Malcolm, go. I don't care what traffic looks like anymore. A brief pause. Then Daniel gave the order he had hoped never to give. Run code black.
Inside the lead SUV, Malcolm Pierce's expression hardened. He reached for the emergency switch. Red lights exploded to life across the convoy. Sirens shattered the afternoon silence. The accelerator hit the floor.
Every federal vehicle surged forward. Because from this moment on, saving the case was no longer the priority. Saving special agent Nia Brooks was. Ryan Mercer shoved Nia Brooks toward the backseat of the patrol cruiser, head down. She didn't move.
I said, "Get in." Nia calmly looked at the steel cage waiting inside the vehicle. Then she slowly turned back toward Sergeant Travis Cole. "You still have time." Travis laughed.
"Time for what?" "To stop making the biggest mistake of your career." The officers burst into laughter. Ryan shook his head. "She's still pretending she's somebody important."
Eric Nolan smirked. "I've arrested people who claim to be senators." Dylan Hayes added. "Last month one guy said he worked for the CIA." Ryan pointed at Nia.
"And now we've got an FBI fairy tale." The laughter echoed across the parking lot. Only Kevin Ross remained silent. Something felt terribly wrong. Nobody who had just been unlawfully arrested should have looked this calm.
Travis stepped closer. "You've been acting mysterious all afternoon." He folded his arms. "So tell me, who exactly do you think is coming?" Nia's eyes never left his.
"You'll know soon enough." The answer irritated him more than any insult could. Without warning, Travis snatched the canvas tote bag from the hood of the patrol car. "If you're hiding something," he turned the bag upside down. "Let's find it."
Pens scattered across the pavement. A notebook landed near Ryan's boots. A small flashlight rolled into the gutter. A portable phone charger bounced twice before stopping beside the curb. "Nothing unusual."
Ryan laughed. "I told you. She's just another nobody." Travis wasn't convinced. He grabbed the empty tote and shook it violently.
Something caught inside the inner lining. A small leather wallet slipped free. It struck the pavement. The clasp popped open. A gold badge slid halfway out before coming to rest face up beneath the afternoon sun.
Everything stopped. Ryan looked first, then Eric, then Dylan. The words stamped across the badge were impossible to ignore. Federal Bureau of Investigation. For 2 long seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Ryan barked out a nervous laugh. "No way." Eric picked it up. His eyebrows narrowed. "This has to be fake."
Travis snatched the badge from his hand. He examined the engraved seal. The serial number, the polished eagle, it looked real, too real. But admitting that possibility meant admitting everything they had done over the past hour. His pride refused.
He forced a laugh. "You expect me to believe this?" He held the badge up for everyone to see. "You can order one of these online." Ryan immediately joined in.
"Exactly. Movie props." Dylan nodded quickly. "Anybody can buy fake credentials." Kevin looked at the badge, then at Nia, then back at the badge.
His stomach tightened. He had attended joint federal training 2 years earlier. He remembered those credentials. Every tiny security engraving, every microscopic detail. This one looked authentic, very authentic.
His voice almost disappeared. "Sergeant." Travis ignored him. He stepped directly in front of Nia. "So, this is your little trick?"
Nia answered quietly. "You should hand that back." Travis smiled. "Or what?" "You already know the answer."
"No." He tossed the badge onto the hood of the cruiser. "I really don't." Then, a low rumble drifted across the highway. Ryan glanced toward the sound.