Chapter 5
Blackstone Quarry was surrounded before sunrise.
Floodlights cut through the darkness.
Divers prepared near the water.
Federal agents searched the abandoned structures while military personnel assisted with equipment and perimeter control.
Maria was not allowed near the site.
I was grateful for that.
Some waiting should never happen beside cold water.
I stood with Agent Brooks as the first dive team entered.
Nobody spoke much.
There was nothing useful to say.
An hour passed.
Then another.
At 7:18 a.m., a diver surfaced and raised one hand.
Everything stopped.
They had found a vehicle.
Daniel Ortiz’s truck.
It rested thirty feet beneath the water.
When they pulled it out, the driver’s door was damaged.
The license plate matched.
Maria’s nightmare had finally become evidence.
But Daniel wasn’t inside.
Brooks looked at me.
“That could be good.”
“Or worse.”
We both knew it.
Investigators found blood traces inside the cab.
Not enough to prove what happened.
Enough to prove violence.
They also found a bullet lodged in the passenger-side door.
The case changed from disappearance to suspected attempted murder.
Mercer became the primary suspect.
Then we got another surprise.
Fingerprints inside the truck belonged to Chief Deputy Sloan.
He had spent the night denying involvement.
That ended quickly.
Brooks questioned him again.
This time I watched through a window.
Sloan lasted forty-three minutes.
Mercer had stopped Daniel Ortiz that night.
Daniel had confronted him about stolen property.
He threatened to take evidence directly to military investigators.
Mercer panicked.
Sloan arrived.
An argument became a fight.
A gun fired.
Daniel escaped on foot.
Mercer and Sloan pushed the truck into the quarry, hoping investigators would eventually assume Daniel had drowned.
But Daniel had survived.
“At least for a while,” Sloan said.
Brooks leaned toward him.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mercer must have searched.”
“He did.”
“Did he find him?”
Sloan stared at the table.
“I don’t know.”
Brooks slammed her hand down.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Sloan flinched.
“I swear.”
“Where is Mercer now?”
“I don’t know.”
She stared at him.
“Where would he run?”
Sloan looked terrified.
“There’s an old hunting cabin near Mill Ridge.”
Brooks moved instantly.
Federal tactical teams headed there.
The cabin was empty.
But Mercer had been there recently.
Food wrappers.
Fresh tire tracks.
Maps.
A police scanner.
And a handwritten list.
Noah Collins.
Lena Brooks.
Maria Ortiz.
Sarah Hayes.
My name was last.
Circled twice.
Reed saw it before I did.
“You’re getting additional protection.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“General.”
I looked at him.
“Don’t.”
“With respect, ma’am, your name is on a fugitive sheriff’s target list.”
“I can read.”
“Then act like it.”
I almost snapped back.
Then I thought about Rachel.
She was already driving toward Fort Arden.
If Mercer came after me, he might come near her.
“Fine.”
Reed nodded.
“Thank you.”
“Enjoy the victory. It won’t happen often.”
He smiled faintly.
The search expanded.
Roadblocks.
Helicopters.
State police.
Federal agents.
Mercer knew the county better than all of them.
By afternoon, he still hadn’t been found.
Then Maria received a call.
Unknown number.
She answered before agents could stop her.
“Hello?”
A man spoke.
“Your husband should’ve minded his business.”
Maria froze.
Brooks grabbed recording equipment.
“Who is this?”
“You know.”
Maria’s face drained.
“Where is Daniel?”
A laugh.
Mercer.
“Ask your general friend.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“Sheriff.”
Silence.
Then:
“Well. General Hayes.”
“You’re running out of places to hide.”
“I was doing fine until you came through my county.”
“No. You were committing crimes until I came through your county.”
His breathing changed.
“You ruined everything.”
“You ruined it yourself.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You think you’re better than me because soldiers salute you?”
“No.”
I looked at Maria.
“I think I’m better than you because I don’t prey on frightened people.”
He went silent.
I continued.
“Where is Captain Ortiz?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Then come find me.”
The line disconnected.
Brooks immediately traced what she could.
Burner phone.
Tower near Mill Ridge.
Mercer had stayed close.
“He wants you involved,” Reed said.
“He already involved me.”
“He wants you personally exposed.”
“I understand.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
I turned to him.
“Colonel.”
“No.”
It was rare for anyone under my command to say that.
Rarer still for them to survive my stare without blinking.
Reed did.
“This isn’t a military operation you command,” he said quietly. “It’s a federal manhunt, and you’re a named target.”
He was right.
I hated that.
So I stayed.
Rachel arrived that evening.
The moment she entered my quarters, she hugged me.
Not carefully.
Not politely.
She wrapped both arms around me as if she intended to prove I was alive.
I held her tighter.
“I’m okay.”
“You always say that.”
“This time it’s mostly true.”
She pulled back.
“Mostly?”
I smiled.
She didn’t.
Then she saw the security officers outside.
“Mom.”
“It’s precautionary.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
I considered lying.
Old habit.
Instead, I told her Mercer was still missing and considered dangerous.
She stared at me.
“And you let me drive here?”
“I didn’t know the full risk when you left.”
“You could’ve called.”
She was right again.
“I should have.”
Rachel shook her head.
“This is exactly what I mean.”
“I know.”
That stopped her.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
I sat beside her.
“I spent my life believing protecting you meant keeping frightening things away from you.”
Her eyes filled.
“But sometimes you kept yourself away too.”
The words hurt.
Because they were true.
“I’m sorry.”
Rachel started crying.
So did I.
I could command thousands of soldiers without my voice shaking.
Apologizing to my daughter nearly broke me.
We hugged again.
My phone rang.
Brooks.
I answered.
“What is it?”
“We found someone near Mill Ridge.”
“Mercer?”
“No.”
Her voice changed.
“A man walked onto a county road about twenty minutes ago. Malnourished. Injured. Confused.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
Brooks took a breath.
“He says his name is Daniel Ortiz.”
I stood so fast the chair fell backward.
Rachel stared at me.
“He’s alive?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
After eight months, Captain Daniel Ortiz was alive.
But Brooks wasn’t finished.
“He says Mercer held him prisoner.”
“Where?”
“He’s trying to remember.”
Then she lowered her voice.
“And General?”
“Yes?”
“Daniel says Mercer isn’t running away.”
May you like
A chill moved through me.
“He says Mercer is coming for you.”
