Chapter 8 - Franklin Cycle StorageThe raid began at 11:34 p.m.
No sirens.
No lights.
SWAT approached from three sides.
Caleb was ordered to remain at command.
He hated every second.
Lena stood beside him.
“You go in, you become part of the hostage problem.”
“I know.”
“Then stop looking like you’re about to ignore me.”
Caleb said nothing.
Radio crackled.
“Entry team one set.”
“Team two set.”
“Rear clear.”
Then:
“Go.”
Seconds stretched.
“Front breached.”
“Movement inside.”
“Two subjects detained.”
“Main floor clear.”
Caleb watched the warehouse from an unmarked vehicle.
Rows of motorcycles were visible through open doors.
Dozens.
Some partially dismantled.
Others intact.
Then the second team reached the rear structure.
“Door reinforced.”
Caleb clenched his jaw.
“Breaching.”
A boom.
Then shouting.
“Police!”
Silence.
Then gunfire.
Caleb moved instinctively.
Lena grabbed him.
“No.”
Another radio call.
“Shots from interior. Officer okay.”
More shouting.
Then:
“Suspect down.”
Caleb stopped breathing.
“Hostage?”
Static.
“Searching.”
Seconds.
Then:
“Female located.”
Caleb closed his eyes.
“Status?”
“Alive.”
He nearly collapsed.
Lena squeezed his shoulder.
“Alive.”
Caleb opened the vehicle door.
This time nobody stopped him.
Emily emerged fifteen minutes later wrapped in a blanket.
Caleb ran to her.
She hit him before hugging him.
Hard.
“You idiot.”
Caleb held her.
“I know.”
“They wanted files.”
“I know.”
“They said they’d kill Ben.”
“He’s safe.”
Emily began crying.
“Ben?”
“With Mom and Dad.”
She buried her face against him.
Caleb felt something inside him release.
Then Emily whispered:
“The man who took me wasn’t Pike.”
Caleb went still.
“What?”
“I heard them talking.”
“Who?”
“Two men.”
“What did they say?”
“One called somebody Chief.”
Pike.
Caleb’s pulse returned.
“But the man who grabbed me…”
“Yes?”
“He called Pike.”
Caleb stared.
“What did he say?”
Emily swallowed.
“He said, ‘Chief, Morgan still thinks you’re Preacher.’”
Caleb felt cold.
Pike was involved.
But Pike wasn’t Preacher.
Someone wanted Caleb to focus on Pike.
Maybe Pike himself served someone higher.
“Did you hear a name?”
“No.”
“Voice?”
“One of them kept using a voice changer on the phone.”
“Anything physical?”
Emily thought.
“Ring.”
Caleb’s heart jumped.
“Eagle?”
“No.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“Snake.”
Caleb stared.
A different ring.
Preacher had let Tyler see an eagle.
Maybe intentionally.
A fake clue pointing to Pike.
Emily continued.
“And he smelled weird.”
“Like what?”
“Cigar.”
Caleb thought.
Plenty of men smoked cigars.
Then another detail.
“He said he had to leave for a fundraiser.”
“What fundraiser?”
Emily shook her head.
“Something downtown.”
Lena was already searching her phone.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
At 10 p.m., a charity fundraiser had begun at the Columbus Museum of Art.
Police foundation.
Politicians.
Business leaders.
Command staff.
Lena scrolled the guest list.
Then stopped.
“Caleb.”
She showed him.
One name.
Graham Holloway — President, Lakefront Freight Solutions.
Caleb stared.
Samuel Mercer’s employer.
The company at the center of the laundering allegations.
And beside Holloway’s name:
Event Chair.
Lena looked at Caleb.
“Fundraiser ends at midnight.”
Caleb checked the time.
11:57.
If Holloway was Preacher, he had spent the evening surrounded by police.
Perfect camouflage.
Then a crime-scene officer called from inside Franklin Cycle.
“We found something.”
Caleb and Lena entered the rear building.
A table held documents.
Burners.
Cash.
Evidence.
Then the officer pointed to a photograph pinned beneath a map.
Caleb.
Lena.
Rawlings.
Lieutenant Ellison.
Deputy Chief Pike.
Five targets.
Each name had a date beside it.
Pike’s date was tomorrow.
Caleb looked at Lena.
“Pike isn’t running this.”
May you like
“No.”
“He’s next.”
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