CHAPTER 6 – The Man Everyone Trusted
The entire police station fell silent.
Detective Mara stared at the phone as if it had betrayed her.
"The chief personally signed the release order," she said.
"He claimed the evidence belonged to Homeland Security."
Noah's heart pounded.
"But that's a lie... isn't it?"
Mara didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
Outside the station, a black SUV slowly rolled into the parking lot.
No license plates.
Black windows.
Three men stepped out wearing expensive suits.
Not police.
Not military.
Something else.
The police chief walked outside to greet them...
...and shook hands with one of the men.
Rex watched through the window.
His ears flattened.
Then he let out a low growl Noah had never heard before.
It wasn't fear.
It was recognition.
The tallest man looked toward the station entrance.
Then he smiled.
"Bring me the boy."
Before anyone could react, the building's power failed again.
Emergency alarms screamed through every hallway.
Doors automatically unlocked.
Chaos erupted.
Detective Mara grabbed Noah's hand.
"We have thirty seconds!"
She pulled the microchip from the dog tag and slipped it into Noah's sneaker.
"If they catch me, don't tell anyone where it is."
"What about you?"
She forced a smile.
"I'll buy you time."
Rex suddenly barked and sprinted toward the rear exit.
Noah followed.
As they reached the parking garage, Mara slammed the steel door shut behind them.
The last thing Noah heard before the lock clicked was her voice shouting—
"RUN!"
A deafening gunshot echoed from the other side.
Noah froze.
Tears filled his eyes.
But Rex grabbed Noah's jacket gently with his teeth and pulled him forward.
They escaped into the storm.
Neither of them knew...
That the tiny microchip hidden inside Noah's shoe didn't contain bank accounts...
Or government secrets.
It contained one video.
A video showing the person who ordered Noah's father's murder.
And when Noah finally watched it...
May you like
He would discover the killer wasn't Victor.
It was someone he still trusted with all his heart.
