Chapter 13 - THE HIGHER CLEARANCE
"No casualties, Captain," I said, catching my breath as Vance grabbed me by the arm, dragging me away from the horde of reporters gathering behind the barricades. "The robber is cuffed inside. But the manager... Harrison is gone."
Vance stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. "Gone? What do you mean, gone? The whole block was locked down tighter than a federal vault!"
"They have an extraction network," I lowered my voice, pulling Vance closer. "Subterranean rail linked to the old Cold War infrastructure. And they didn't just take Harrison. They sent an auditor."
Vance’s expression didn't look shocked. It looked terrified—and dangerously guarded.
"An auditor," Vance repeated flatly.
"Don't play dumb with me, Captain," I snapped, stepping into his personal space. "You know what Westbridge was. You know those kids weren't all rescued a decade ago. One of them was inside that bank today—a ten-year-old boy carrying a military-grade master override. And from the look on your face, you weren't surprised they were still active."
Before Vance could answer, a sleek, unmarked black SUV with tinted windows and diplomatic plates pulled up silently beside the curb. The rear door clicked open, and a man in a crisp charcoal suit stepped out. He wore titanium-framed glasses and carried a secure leather briefcase chained to his wrist.
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He didn't look at the police officers, the media, or the ambulance. He looked directly at Captain Vance—and then his cold, calculating gaze shifted onto me.
"Detective Miller," the man said smoothly, his voice carrying the polished, untouchable authority of someone who answered to an entirely different chain of command. "Federal Oversight. Step away from the perimeter, please. This incident has been reclassified under National Security Directive 104."
