Chapter 99

"Gosh!" I slammed the paperwork onto my desk, and the phrase burst out of my mouth. The pages were spread everywhere, taunting me with their uselessness. I had believed the sting operation had been perfect. Planning, monitoring, and meticulous planning had all been reduced to dust.

With the metal legs of my chair scraping on the floor, I pulled it back and paced the small space. The workplace smelled of sadness and stale coffee.

"How on earth were they aware?" My hands clenched and unclenched as I murmured. Someone had told them. There was no other reason.

The fluorescent lights in the hallway buzzed like a swarm of flies as I grabbed my coat and rushed out. The icy cold of the night seemed to sink into my bones as I walked to my car, which was parked at the far end of the lot.

Ben Fisher. Like a warning light, his face flashed in my mind. He had been helpful-too helpful. The engine roared to life as I jammed the key into the ignition and sped toward his house.

Ben's neighborhood was as unremarkable as they come, with rows of similar homes, immaculate lawns, and porch lights that glowed like broken promises. The dirt crunched beneath my boots as I turned off the engine and stepped outside.

In a fit of anger, I rang the doorbell. The door opened a moment later, and Ben stood there, looking both shocked and cautious.

He leaned against the doorframe and whispered, "Agent Richards. It's late."

I retorted, "When months of work and millions of dollars are destroyed, tardiness is not a problem. Fisher, I need answers."

Ben sighed and moved aside.

His home's exterior was as well-maintained as its interior. Too neat, too perfect. It made me tense.

He asked, "Whiskey?" and went to the kitchen.

I followed him and said, "Just answers. How were they aware of the operation?"

With a glass already in hand, Ben turned. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

I took a step forward and dropped my voice. "Don't act stupid, Fisher. They were warned by someone. You've known Monroe for a long time. Don't act like you know nothing."

His calm attitude infuriated me as he sipped his drink. "I would let you know if I knew anything. But I don't. Perhaps you should ask your own team."

I yelled, "My team isn't the one with ties to a criminal empire. I supported you, Fisher. If you're cheating me-"

With a serious voice, he interrupted, "Watch it. I've gone above and beyond to help you. Don't blame me because your plan failed."

Like static energy, the tension between us crackled. I looked down at him, looking for a weakness in his facade, but he refused to back down.

Finally, I took a step back. "All right," I replied coldly. "But I'll bury you if I find out you're lying."

Streetlights and increasing annoyance filled the drive back to the office. After Ben's denial, I had more questions than answers, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something.

The building was extremely quiet when I arrived. I walked to my office, my footsteps echoing in the deserted halls. My discomfort deepened with the harsh shadows cast by the fluorescent lights.

My phone buzzed just as I was settled in. My guts dropped when I saw the number on the screen.

"Richards," I said, keeping a calm tone despite the dread gnawing at me.

The terse response was, "Report to Conference Room B immediately." The line went dead.

It felt like a death march as I made my way to the meeting room. Three top agents were already seated when I entered, their faces unreadable.

The man in the middle motioned for me to sit and said, "Agent Richards." Director Callahan was written on his nameplate.

My hands were sweating as I sat down. "What's going on?"

With his hands clasped on the table, Callahan leaned forward. "Your recent operation-and its failure-needs to be discussed."

I sat up straight. "Respectfully, sir, the plan was ruined. A tip was given to the targets."

"That's exactly what we're concerned about," Callahan said in a cold voice. "There is evidence that the leak might have come from people in your social circle."

The charge hit me like a punch to the gut. "Do you mean that I-?"

Another agent stopped me with a sharp look. "No one's suggesting anything. But we must consider all options."

I leaned forward and spoke strongly. "I've given everything to this case. I didn't cause the leak, if there even was one."

I was silent as Callahan raised his hand. "Debating isn't our goal. Our goal is to assess."

The third agent, a reserved man with a sharp look, pushed a file across the table, and the room went quiet.

"You know what this is?" he asked.

My blood froze as I opened the file and looked through its contents. It held details about the operation that I hadn't shared with anyone outside of my small team.

"Where did you get this?" I insisted.

Callahan's face became stern. "That's what we're trying to determine. This document was found in the custody of a known informant linked to Monroe Enterprises."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"That's not possible," I mumbled, barely whispering. "I didn't-"

The sharp agent halted. "We've also heard rumors that you've been making unauthorized trips to a certain Ben Fisher. Would you care to explain?"

I clenched my hands. "Fisher is an important resource. He's cooperated-"

She said, "Or he's been giving you false information. And your grudge has blinded you to see it."

I shot back, raising my voice, "This isn't about a grudge. Justice is at stake here. Fisher is our best chance to take down Monroe Enterprises, which is a cancer."

Callahan's eyes were tired as he leaned back. "Richards, I admire your passion. But unchecked emotion can be dangerous."

He raised his hand as I opened my mouth to argue.

"You're suspended, effective immediately," he said in a firm tone. "You must turn in your badge and weapon until we can assess the full scope of this breach."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I trembled as I answered, "You can't be serious."

Callahan said, "This isn't a punishment," though his tone suggested otherwise. "It's a safety measure."

I put my pistol and badge on the table and reluctantly reached for my jacket. The act felt devastating in its weight.

I stood up to leave, but Callahan's voice stopped me.

"One last thing," he said. "If we find proof that you were involved in this leak, you won't just lose your job. You'll be charged."

As I left, the room spun around me, and the door slammed shut behind me.

The cold night air stung my skin as the parking lot stood empty. I sat in my car, holding the steering wheel, replaying the events of the night.

I was accused of being the leak. I was suddenly facing resistance from the very people I trusted to support me.

I quietly vowed to prove them wrong as the engine roared to life, no matter the cost.