Chapter 3 - The Red Blink of Betrayal
Miller's thumb instinctively flew to her shoulder, pressing hard against the small rubberized housing of her radio receiver. The tiny LED light, which should have glowed a steady, reassuring green, was pulsing a frantic, crimson warning. She was isolated. The encrypted channel connecting her to the regional field office had been severed remotely.
"Williams, report!" Miller barked, keeping her knee firmly planted in Julian's spine. "Did you establish secure comms with dispatch before you pulled the car around?"
Williams stared at her blankly, his weapon lowering an inch as confusion knitted his brow. "I tried, Miller. The frequency is completely dead. Static across all channels. It's like the whole grid around this block just went dark."
Clara crawled toward the doorway, clutching the black duffel bag to her chest. Her eyes were wide with terror as she looked between the two federal agents and the man pinned beneath Miller's boot.
"They knew we were coming," Clara whispered, her voice trembling so violently her teeth chattered. "Director Vance didn't just send Julian. He set a trap for both of us to clean up the loose ends from Operation Greystone."
Julian shifted beneath Miller, using a sudden burst of adrenaline to buck his hips. Miller shifted her weight, slamming him back down with a sharp grunt, but the momentary distraction was all he needed. With a sudden wrench of his shoulder, Julian slipped his arm free from her grip, his hand darting toward his denim jacket pocket.
"Drop it!" Williams roared, lunging forward and kicking a heavy metal snub-nosed revolver away from Julian’s reach before it could clear the fabric.
The gun skidded across the concrete, coming to rest near Clara’s boots. She stared down at the weapon as if it were a venomous snake.
"Stay back, both of you!" Clara yelled, scrambling backward into the motel room and grabbing the heavy revolver off the floor with shaking hands.
"Clara, don't do it!" Miller shouted, raising her empty hands in a universal gesture of appeasement while maintaining her tactical posture over Julian, who was now chuckling softly against the pavement. "That gun won't save you from what's coming down this hallway."
Julian rolled onto his side, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he stared at Clara with a twisted expression of pity.
"You think Vance is the only one pulling the strings?" Julian rasped, wiping a smear of dust from his cap. "Turn around, Agent Miller. Look at the third-floor landing across the courtyard."
May you like
Miller slowly turned her head toward the darkened stairwell of the opposite wing. Standing in the shadows, half-obscured by the flickering amber glow of a security camera, a tall figure in a dark trench coat was raising a silenced pistol, taking deliberate aim right through the wooden railing.
---
