She slid her thumb under the flap, prying it open. A single sheet of paper, blocky, uneven handwriting. Dropped the complaint. Walk away. She exhaled slowly.
Now I'm getting letters. Marcus was quiet for a long moment before he sighed. Nat, don't tell me to let this go. I'm telling you to be careful. He corrected.
You know what happens when people go after cops. They don't play fair. She knew. She also didn't care. Marcus exhaled again, his voice quieter now.
This could ruin you. I'm already ruined, she said flatly. Or haven't you noticed? They've already started the process, her job. It had happened yesterday.
An unexpected email from her contracting firm requesting an immediate review of her security clearance. Natalie had spent years working in counterterrorism, both in the field and intelligence. Her clearance was everything. Without it, she couldn't work in defense consulting. She couldn't access the jobs that allowed her to transition into civilian life.
The review wasn't random. They were trying to pull the rug out from under her. Marcus cursed under his breath. They put your clearance under review. Yeah, they're boxing you in.
His voice was sharp now, tinged with something close to anger. If they pull your clearance, you lose your livelihood. You get blacklisted. Even if you win, you'll be radioactive. Natalie drummed her fingers against the table, her jaw tightening.
It's not the first time someone's tried to burn me. And last time you had the full weight of the military behind you. This time you're alone. She let the silence settle between them. Marcus sighed.
Just think about what happens next. You know I'll back you up, but you need to be smart. Natalie swallowed, nodding even though he couldn't see her. I'll handle it, Nat. She hung up before he could say anything else.
Her gaze drifted back to the letter on the table. A warning. A desperate attempt to push her out of the fight before it got worse. Natalie had spent her entire career dealing with threats, with intimidation, with people who thought fear was enough to make someone disappear. They were about to learn how wrong they were.
Natalie had never been the kind of woman to wait for an attack to finish before striking back. She had spent too many years learning how to turn the tide in impossible situations. How to take apart enemies not by force alone, but by precision, by understanding their weaknesses before they even realized they had been exposed. She had let Holloway and Mercer play their little game long enough. It was time to return the favor.
She didn't go back to the police station. She didn't call internal affairs again. She didn't waste time pleading for justice from a system designed to protect the men who had put her on the pavement in cuffs. Instead, she made a call of her own. Angela Reyes picked up after the second ring.
Please tell me this isn't a social call. Natalie smirked slightly. Angela had been an intelligence officer in the Navy, working in cyber operations before leaving for private contracting. She was sharp, meticulous, and deeply unbothered by moral gray areas when it came to digging into people's lives. "Need some research done," Natalie said, keeping her voice even.
Angela made a noise of amusement. "You don't do research, you do recon, which means someone pissed you off." Natalie leaned against her kitchen counter, staring out the window, where, just as she expected, the unmarked car was back. A different spot tonight. Half hidden behind another vehicle, but still there, always there.
I filed a complaint against two cops, she said. They responded by making my life hell. I need to know who they are, where they break the rules. What makes them nervous? Angela hummed thoughtfully.
Names: Holloway and Mercer. Brent Holloway. Doug Mercer. Local PD. There was a brief pause, then the sound of typing.
Quick and fluid. The background hum of a woman who had done this a thousand times before. All right, Angela said after a moment. I'll call you back when I have something. She hung up without another word.
Natalie set her phone down and exhaled, rolling her shoulders. She had spent the last week reacting. It felt good to be the one making the first move. The weaknesses appear. Angela didn't take long.
3 hours later, her phone buzzed again. You were right, Angela said without preamble. They've got skeletons. Natalie's lips pressed into a thin line. Talk to me.
Holloway first, Angela said, her tone shifting into something more clinical. He's been with the department for almost 20 years. On the surface, his record looks clean. Commenations, community outreach work, the usual PR nonsense. But when you start looking at his financials, things get interesting.
Natalie's grip on the phone tightened slightly. How interesting. He's involved in some offthe-books real estate deals. Properties flipping under shell LLC's, cash deposits that don't quite match up with his salary. I don't have hard proof yet, but from what I'm seeing, he's either taking money under the table or running something dirty through those properties.
Cops don't make enough to afford that many investments without help. That was good. That was very good. And Mercer? Angela snorted.
Mercer is just a mess. He's got a gambling problem. Nothing huge at first, but over the last 6 months, he's been bleeding money. Poker, online sports betting, underground stuff. He's in debt.
And from the looks of it, he's in over his head. He's been making big withdrawals from his savings, but it's not covering what he owes. Natalie's mind was already working through the implications. Holloway was controlled, careful, the kind of man who wouldn't react unless he felt cornered. Mercer, though, if he was already desperate, he would break first.
Angela sighed. I can keep digging, but this is enough to work with. It is. Angela hesitated. Nat.