Hank
The sirens are deafening now.
Red and blue lights flood the warehouse district, casting everything in sharp, alternating shadows. I count at least six units pulling up to the perimeter—city police, county sheriff, and what looks like a federal vehicle bringing up the rear.
Good.
We need all of them.
I'm standing near the main entrance with Sam still pressed against my side. She hasn't let go of my jacket since we walked out, and
I'm not about to make her.
Detective Sarah Chen is the first one through the door, her badge already out, her weapon holstered but accessible. She's been our primary contact for the last eight months—the one who feeds us intel, the one who looks the other way when we move faster than the system allows.
She sees me and nods once.
"Hank."
"Sarah."
Sh
