Chapter 11
The flickering amber emergency lights of the warehouse cast long, eerie shadows across the metal grating as Marcus stared down at the flashing screen of the burner phone. The text message sat there like a ticking bomb, offering a direct line to whoever was backing Terrell from the shadows. The lead detective leaned over Marcus's shoulder, reading the words on the screen before pulling her radio close to her mouth and issuing immediate orders to intercept the second contact at the downtown bus terminal.
"We need to move now," the detective instructed, looking sternly at Marcus. "You're coming with us, but you stay in the vehicle this time. This is police business."
Marcus didn't argue. The shock of discovering his mother's signature in Terrell's ledger had hollowed him out, leaving him numb to the adrenaline that had fueled him all night. He walked silently back down to the patrol cruiser, sliding into the back seat as the doors locked automatically. The vehicle tore out of the distribution depot parking lot, sirens wailing through the empty streets as they raced toward the downtown transit center.
Ten minutes later, the cruiser slid to a halt across the rain-slicked pavement of the bus depot. The massive terminal was mostly deserted at this late hour, save for a few weary travelers waiting on benches near the ticket counters and a lone security guard nodding off near the entrance. The tactical units deployed with practiced precision, moving through the glass doors and sealing off the exits while the lead detective tracked the incoming signal on her mobile terminal.
Marcus pressed his face against the cold window of the cruiser, watching the rain streak down the glass. He knew that catching the accomplice wouldn't just close the case; it would expose the entire network of corruption that had poisoned his home.
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Suddenly, a tall figure in a dark trench coat emerged from the shadows near Platform 4, carrying a heavy suitcase that matched the description of the missing cash drop. As the tactical team closed in from both sides, the man dropped the suitcase and bolted toward the service doors, only to be tackled hard to the pavement by two plainclothes officers.
As the officers hauled the suspect to his feet under the glaring fluorescent lights of the terminal, Marcus gasped softly, recognizing the face instantly. It wasn't a criminal boss or a hardened syndicate member; it was Marcus’s own uncle, David—Elena’s older brother.
