Chapter 7 - The Interrogation in the Dark
The metal door of the control booth flew inward, slamming against the drywall with a resounding crack. Officer Thomas Brody—a hulking veteran with a reputation for brutality and a permanent scowl—stepped into the room, holding a drawn Remington shotgun at the ready. His uniform was soaked from the rain, and his eyes burned with a manic, desperate energy.
"Drop it, Vance!" Brody bellowed, sweeping the barrel of the shotgun back and forth between Marcus and Maya. "Drop the weapon and step away from the terminal!"
Marcus didn't move. He stood his ground in front of the console, keeping his pistol low but ready, his body positioned to shield Maya and the diagnostic tool resting on the desk.
"It’s over, Brody," Marcus said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "The federal backups are already out. The state attorney general has the raw data. You’re holding the bag for a sinking ship."
"Shut your mouth!" Brody shouted, his face purple with rage. He took a heavy step forward, the muzzle of the shotgun steadying on Marcus’s chest. "The Chief runs this town, and the Chief says this investigation doesn't exist. Turn around and cuff your partner, Vance, or I’ll paint this wall with both of you."
Maya slid off the stool behind Marcus, her fingers closing tightly around the small, heavy plastic diagnostic drive containing the unedited server logs. She tucked it deep into the lining of her canvas bag as she slowly backed toward the narrow emergency exit stairwell at the rear of the booth.
Brody’s peripheral vision caught the movement. His eyes snapped toward Maya, a cruel grin spreading across his weathered face.
"Ah, ah, ah. Don't move an inch, grieving mother," Brody sneered, adjusting his aim slightly toward Maya’s chest. "You think you’re smarter than the department? You think a few computer files are going to bring your kid back? Let me tell you something about Julian. He wasn't supposed to die. He just stumbled into the wrong pipe at the wrong time, and the valve was opened by accident. It was a tragedy. But you... you’re turning it into a federal circus."
Marcus’s eyes narrowed. The pretense of police solidarity vanished completely. "You opened the valve, Brody?"
Brody laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed off the concrete. "We all did what we had to do to keep the municipal bonds afloat. Now, hand over the bag, Lin, or I swear to God I’ll put you in the exact same channel your son swam through."
Before Brody could squeeze the trigger, Marcus lunged across the narrow room, using his shoulder as a battering ram to slam Brody into the metal doorframe just as the shotgun discharged into the ceiling in a shower of sparks and drywall dust.
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Maya didn't wait to see who won the grapple. She spun around, kicked open the emergency exit door, and plunged out into the freezing rain on the exterior catwalk—only to find herself staring down the barrel of another weapon held by an unexpected figure blocking her only path of escape.
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