Broken Veil - Midnight Hunt
​
Directors Log / Derrick Wolfe
I’ve spent a lot of time hopping from place to place. After a while, all the cities started to feel the same. This last one was no different. It was just another night on the job, until we found something I still can't explain.
Early morning felt darker than midnight. Neon signs and building lights painted the asphalt in their colors. Small groups of people drifted along the sidewalks. Eyes down on their phones or fixed straight ahead. Unaware.
Unaware of the shadows and what might be lurking just out of sight, waiting to lash out in fear or hunger. That’s why we were here.
I watched the light reflect off the windows as we rolled by, my eyes catching the occasional passerby as our SUV rolled along the city streets. There was less life as we got closer to our destination. Somewhere on the East side near the river, a problem was waiting for us to solve. One of our patrols called it in.
We rose onto the overpass heading toward the bridge where the river sparkled with moonlight. On one side of us the city rose up in tall mirrored buildings. On the other side across the river sat part of the older downtown district with lower brick and concrete buildings. It was isolated by the branching river, turning it into a narrow peninsula.
I sat in the back seat on the passenger side, the window cracked just enough to let in the humid night air mixed with the brackish water smell that never quite leaves cities near waterways. I glanced out the window over the river where the moonlight rippled on the surface. My hat sat low. Coat collar up.
Up front, Nick drove—steady hands, jaw tight. He’s young, too young for the bags under his eyes, but he carries himself well in the team’s lead position. He had the radio tuned to some news station, low enough that it’s background noise. Beside him, Lin—our tech—scrolled through tablet feeds with blue light flickering across her glasses. She didn’t look up. She never did until she had to.
In the back next to me, Jason sat sprawled out across his half of the seat and the middle as if he was trying to claim the space. Ex-military, loud laugh, and louder opinions. He chewed gum like it owed him money.
“So, are we gonna pass this one off as another animal attack?” Jason asked, not really asking. “Because they are getting messier every time, and I don’t think people are buying it anymore.”
In the old days, things would evaporate. Wouldn’t stray far from the openings. Now they lingered, roaming free or hiding in the dark. When they came out, they left too much behind.
“The covers work,” Nick said. “But, it is getting harder to sweep under. Any more that we don’t get to first and officials might start looking for patterns.”
“I thought we were the officials.”
Lin snorted. “If we were, then we wouldn’t need a consultant.”
I felt Jason’s eyes on the side of my head. “Yeah. Consultant.”
I didn’t turn.
He could gripe all he wanted, but I expected it.
My role as Investigations Director sends me to check in on the Line Divisions. That’s why I was there.
Command sending in a “consultant” gives me authority without everyone tip-toeing. It keeps the Line honest, and keeps me where I’m useful. On the edge, where the answers are, instead of stuck behind a desk calling in orders over a headset.
We made it to the other side now, pulling away from the bridge.
Lin finally spoke after a message slid onto her tablet. “A-team has the perimeter secure. The scene is fresher than expected. The Captain says it might be the Echo that’s been eluding us. No signs of it yet. They’re holding until we arrive.”
Nick nodded. “Good, we caught the scene first. We might have a chance to get it tonight.”
Jason leaned forward. “Yeah, we’ve only been circling it for weeks now.”
I looked over at him. “Or it’s been waiting for us.”
He met my eyes without blinking. “You sound like you’ve seen this before.”
“I have.”
I let my attention drift back to the window. “Not every Echo behaves like you expect.”
He didn’t respond. Just kept smacking away at his gum.
Echoes. That’s what we’d been calling them.
Anchor has been scrambling for months to locate, capture and classify everything that got loose in that final wave before the Veil went quiet. That forced new protocols, adjustments to the Line Division teams, and now we had twice the cleanup and paperwork.
The SUV turned down a side street. A sign that read Utility Work Ahead sat like a warning flag. A man in a yellow hard hat and high-vis jacket stood next to a stop sign stuck into an orange cone. As we approached, he turned the sign around from STOP to SLOW, nodding to us and speaking into his radio as we passed.
As we rolled down the narrow street more people in safety gear appeared along the walls and around the entrance to a parking garage. They looked like city workers pretending to be busy.
One of them waved us in.
We turned and eased our way down onto the bottom level of the garage. Nick found a spot a short walk from the scene and killed the engine.
Yellow tape stretched across the room between the concrete pillars. The words CRIME SCENE written across it, like anyone down here needed a reminder.
Doors opened. I stepped out first. Our boots echoed against the pavement.
I fixed the ballistic vest under my coat, checking my pockets and belt to confirm all my effects were in place.
Lin slung a small backpack over her shoulder and tablet under her arm.
Jason grabbed his gear and a rifle from the back of the SUV, loading magazines of both tranq and live ammo. Just in case.
Nick fell in beside me.
“You alright?” I asked him.
“I’m good. You?”
I adjusted my hat, settling the last of my armor in place. “Good enough.”
Parking garages always smell the same. Oil. Damp concrete. Old rain that seeped through the cracks. The lights overhead buzzed like they were tired.
I walked slow, boots tapping against the concrete. My hat sat low, brim cutting the glare just enough. Old habits.
Nick kept in step beside me. He was dressed like he had a uniform—boots, cargo pants, fitted shirt with shoulder pockets, matching color scheme. A tactical vest over everything. Body cam mounted dead center like an unblinking eye. He looked like a cop. Moved like one too.
I used to have a badge myself. Then I lost my partner. My career. And eventually, my home town.
Anchor picked me up, gave me a new badge and a new job. And to think I nearly walked away from all of it.
But I couldn’t. We couldn’t, Gabriella and I. There were too many unanswered questions and too much at stake to sit on the sidelines.
We ducked underneath the yellow tape and, just like that, I was back in the game.
I checked the switch on my own body cam then tapped the mic in my ear.
“Gabs. You got me?”
A half-second of silence. Then her voice, clean and calm.
“Loud and clear, Derrick. Feeds are coming through. I see everything.”
“Good.”
“I’m patching into everyone’s comms now. Sat feed is live. Good hunting.”
“Thanks. Hopefully we aren’t too far behind.”
Anchor troops guarded the perimeter, dressed like SWAT. Black armor. Helmets. Rifles low but ready. They acknowledged us as we approached, one nodding to me.
They didn’t look nervous.
That shouldn’t have bothered me. Nervous says it’s serious. Calm says they’ve seen this too many times. We’ve all done this too often. But that's the job.
The scene itself was… messy.
Too much blood. Not sprayed—scattered. Flung across the concrete in long arcs and smeared like something dragged through it.
What was left of the victims was placed wrong—angles and distances that didn’t match human strength. One’s torso wedged halfway into a car doorframe, metal crumpled inward like tinfoil. Another body pressed flat against a pillar, limbs splayed at impossible angles like a rag doll. Both with deep cuts across their bodies.
Jason let out a low whistle when he saw the bodies.
Lin hid most of her face behind the tablet, glasses peeking above the edge.
Nick exhaled slowly. “Jesus.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That tracks.”
One of the SWAT guys stepped over, the Captain. His goggles were clear enough for me to catch his eyes—steady, but tired.
“The area is secure. The whole block is ours,” he said. “We’ve got containment on stand-by for your signal.”
“Go ahead and get top-side with them, we’ll handle this down here.”
I glanced back at the scene.
“I remember when there used to be nothing left behind,” I said quietly. “Now there’s just too much.”
He didn’t argue.
Lin walked the perimeter and scanned around with her tools.
I crouched by the nearest smear. The concrete was gouged beneath it—not broken. Deep grooves cut into the floor. But the blood was still wet and tacky.
“Not normal claw marks,” I said under my breath. “Deep cuts. Parallel scoring.”
Nick kneeled beside me. “Claws?”
“Yeah,” I said, stretching my hand out over the grooves. “Four parallel marks. Strong enough to damage the concrete.”
I looked over to him. “Whatever did this hit hard and fast. Didn’t care what was in its way.”
I stood and followed the trail with my eyes. Scuffs in the blood. Like something heavy shifted direction mid-stride.
“See that?” I pointed. “Footfall spacing’s off. Too wide. Erratic.”
“Some kind of predator?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I replied. “One that panicked.”
“Prey usually panic.”
I huffed. “Yeah, but they don’t usually punch people across the room.”
We moved deeper into the garage, past parked cars dusted with concrete grit and fine red mist. One sedan’s door was caved in like it took a hit from a truck.
At the far end, the wall was gone.
A rough-edged hole opened wide, rebar bent outward like broken ribs. The smears and drops of blood led up to the opening. Beyond it, darkness sloped down, carrying the sound of dripping water and old air. Sewers. Service tunnels. Something forgotten by the city.
Nick stared into it. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
I sighed and adjusted my hat. “Every time.”
I looked back across the blood smeared scene. “It entered from this direction, but the smears show it came back through. The trail is fresh, but growing colder by the minute. We need to get down there.”
I reached inside my coat and drew my revolver, checking the weight and spinning the cylinder out of habit. The body cam clicked softly as it adjusted.
“Gabs,” I said, tapping my mic. “We’ve got a breach leading underground. I need a schematic, if possible.”
“I see it. Already working,” she replied instantly.
Lin and Jason finally caught up to us.
“That’s a big hole,” Jason said through his gum smacking.
“Alright,” I began, “Lin, Jason, get topside with the containment team. Have them prepped and ready for full capture. We’re looking at a possible Class-3. We’ll neutralize it, if it becomes necessary.”
“Sure thing, Boss,” he said, mildly sarcastic. But, they listened and headed back for the SUV.
I turned to Nick. “We’re going to follow the trail and flush it up to the surface. Once it’s in the open, we can tackle it from there.”
Our phones chimed. I pulled out mine and unfolded the wide screen to see a layout of the old service tunnels and sewers from Gabs. I cracked a grin. She’s always on top of things.
“I have the map overlayed with location tracking,” she said in my earpiece, “Alpha team has linked up with containment and standing by.”
“Good work. Jason and Lin are on their way up. Tell the teams to hold until my signal.”
I looked into the dark, listening to the quiet.
I turned back to Nick. “You coming?”
“Right behind you.”
He didn’t hesitate. His jaw was still tight. Eyes steady. Kid’s got steel.
I climbed down into the hole, boots crunching over broken concrete. Nick fell in behind me, weapon and flashlight up. Nick tried a lever on the wall but none of the wall lights came on. Typical.
The air shifted as we descended—colder, heavier. Moisture streaked the walls in dark vertical lines. The overhead pipes sweated from condensation. Our flashlights cut narrow paths ahead, catching faint reflections off wet metal and the occasional faded warning sticker half-peeled from the surface.
Footsteps echoed dully, giving the long tunnel shape. Somewhere up ahead, water dripped in a slow, steady rhythm—tap… tap… tap—that settled into the back of my mind.
Nick stayed tight on my left, pistol ready, his beam sweeping the left wall while mine took the right. We passed a few open tunnel intersections. Heavy steel doors lined the hall at irregular intervals, most of them closed and unmarked. We passed one that had taken a serious hit—the door itself bent inward with a deep dent across it.
The dripping kept its rhythm. Too even. Too familiar. My mind started locking onto it without permission, each drop landing like a countdown I couldn’t silence.
We moved deeper. The tunnel curved slightly, the air growing thicker with that brackish underground smell. Another door came into view ahead, this one unmarked and slightly ajar. My beam swept past it and caught on a dark smear along the floor a few yards further on.
I stopped cold.
For a split second, my mind was somewhere else. Another Tunnel.
My old partner Paul’s voice rang in my ear: “If you stay, we both die.”
The drip sounded louder in my head. Wrong. Like a tapping drum.
After a second, Nick’s voice came through low and even. “You alright?”
I blinked, pulled in a slow breath, and lowered the beam. The tunnel snapped back into focus—moisture-streaked concrete, pipes overhead, that persistent drip in the distance.
This wasn’t that place.
“Yeah,” I said, voice steady. “I’m good.”
I started forward again. Nick fell in without another word, pistol up. The kid had good instincts—he knew when to stay quiet and when to check in.
The smear confirmed it: we were on the right path. Whatever this Echo was, it had come this way—panicked, powerful, and leaving damage in its wake.
The rhythmic dripping continued behind us, but I pushed it down and kept my focus on the dark stretching ahead.
Gabs’ voice crackled softly in my ear with another map ping. “Still tracking you. There’s a junction coming up in about fifty yards. River access.”
We pressed on, beams cutting the gloom, the weight of the city pressing down from above. As we followed the trail, concrete transitioned into mortar covered brick that was flaking away with age.
An opening came into view where a door should have been. Instead it sat dented on the floor beyond, frame broken out of the brick and mortar that once held it.
We stepped through cautiously, sweeping our lights around. This junction was a small boat launch built under the infrastructure for river access, old and forgotten. The dark water rippled faintly with splashes and drips echoing through the chamber.
Nick took a few steps across to the guard rail and swept his light across the water like a lighthouse. The beam barely pierced the surface.
“Think it went in?”
I looked below the rail, then swept my light around the room. Further down, there was another hole broken through the wall.
“Looks like it circled back around.”
We pressed on. Before we entered the new opening, our comms crackled again.
“Jason to the wolf. Containment unit is prepped. Tranqs, traps, and ordinance are all hot. Over.”
“Copy. Be ready to move on my signal. Contact is close, over.”
We heard scraping sounds as we advanced down the new tunnel. The sound of something shuffling in the dark along with a crunching noise. I signaled for Nick to slow down with me.
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “We’ll only have a brief window before things start moving fast. Take note of any features or traits once we get visual.”
I looked him in the eyes. “You with me?”
He nodded. “Ready.”
I brought my light back up under my pistol and we advanced, slow and steady.
As we approached the turn, the sounds grew louder. We rounded the corner slowly, flashlights finally illuminating our suspect.
The creature was hunched low in the tunnel ahead, massive back rising and falling as its long snout gnawed on something I didn’t bother identifying. Its thick hide reflected the light in dull, even patches—like its fur wasn’t made of hair, but something harder. It sat with its long bushy tail curled behind it. The end of the tail having thicker, sharper fur made it resemble a spiked mace.
Nick inhaled sharply, his body tense as he studied it.
My mind was already picking up the clues. Two powerful arms with massive claws. Armored skin. Wide ears that twitched and moved. Whiskers around the face. No eyes where there should be. It was blind.
That must be a key to its navigation, and a possible weakness.
I motioned to Nick, gesturing to communicate what I was seeing. He looked between me and the Echo as I went down the list. I pointed to my ears, then shook the barrel of my pistol. He nodded, understanding my intent.
If it’s sensitive to sound and vibration, then we needed to give it a push.
The clicking of the hammer on my revolver echoed loudly in the hallway as I thumbed it back.
The creature’s ears flicked around towards me, then it turned its head to face us, whiskers twitching.
I fired a round at the floor. The shot smashed into the concrete and rang loud—deafening in the confined space.
The thing recoiled in shock, then it let out an angry shrill cry in our direction and bolted down the corridor. It slammed down the passage with terrifying speed, scraping along the walls and around the corner.
“Contact. We’re Moving!” I yelled into the mic.
We chased after it.
We were sprayed overhead from broken water lines, flashlights bouncing wildly as we chased it through the maze. The thing smashed through barriers like cardboard, disappearing around corners just long enough to make us work for it.
I tapped my mic as I sprinted.
“Echo is moving North through the tunnel—heading for the surface. Have containment move in to the North block.”
“Copy,” Lin replied instantly. “Containment is inbound.”
“Target is affected by sound. Brute force and razor claws. Be ready.”
We chased it through several turns, but Nick kept up right behind me.
Gabs’ voice came through in my ear. “There’s an exit just ahead. Leads back up.”
We heard it cry out again ahead of us followed by a thundering sound of brick and mortar being torn apart. The vibration rolled through the walls.
“What was that?” Nick asked, shining his light around the next corner.
Dust shook loose from the ceiling. A crack split along the wall ahead like lightning through stone. An electrical panel hung off of the wall sparking.
The corridor was obscured by a haze, just clear enough for the damage to be visible—a jagged hole torn through the wall leading upward. Brick, concrete and earth scattered across the floor.
The creature had made its own exit.
Our flashlights cut through the dust and darkness in the hole, shining on a broken water line leaking down from above.
I tapped my mic. “Contact burrowing its way topside, look out for a surface breach.”
Nick held up his map and pointed down the hall. “The door is only a few yards away.”
We didn’t waste time and headed for the exit. A few flights of stairs and we were back at street level.
The door opened onto a narrow back alley, boxed in by old brick buildings and a fire escape. Steam hissed from a vent somewhere nearby, curling through the air in ghostly plumes.
We came out onto the street facing the river. Then further down at the next alley we saw and felt movement. Vibration rolled underfoot as it breached the surface.
The Echo burst from between the buildings. Its footsteps rattled the asphalt and slammed into a dumpster hard enough to send it skidding sideways into the street.
“Contact at East side, heading North.” I barked into comms.
The sound of engines and squealing tires came around the corner behind us as two of our trucks fell into pursuit.
The creature didn’t slow.
It twisted mid-stride, head snapping side to side, ears flicking—listening.
Then it veered toward a side gap between the buildings.
“It’s evading,” Nick said.
I tapped my comms. “Team, come up the West side,” I ordered into the mic. “Cut it off before it hits open street.”
There was a half-second pause.
Then Lin: “Copy—intercepting now.”
Good.
They listened fast.
We sprinted after it down the alley as our vehicles flanked the side streets.
The alley tightened, forcing us single file. Our Echo barreled ahead, smashing through a chain-link fence like it wasn’t there and anything else in its path.
We followed in its wake, jumping over flattened trash cans and scattered boxes. It went through a few more alleyways until we reached the northernmost point.
We spilled out from between the buildings onto an empty lot illuminated by a lonely street light. The creature had stopped at the edge of the pavement near the river’s edge. We approached halfway across the lot at the edge of the light and stopped as our trucks, SUV and the containment rig all screeched to a stop on both sides.
It flicked its ears and head left then right, breathing heavy, but there was nowhere left to go.
Vehicle headlights cut harsh beams through the darkness as the team moved in from both sides. Black-armored silhouettes fanned out alongside them, rifles raised. Shields up. Net launchers ready.
“Hold positions!” I shouted.
I held up a hand as they fell in line.
The creature stood up on its back legs, balancing with its tail, spreading its arms out wide to reveal its claws. It growled low. If it had eyes it would be glaring at us.
The men next to us steadied their gear.
I gestured pointedly toward it. “Take it.”
They advanced past me, slowly closing the distance step by step into the glow of the streetlight.
The creature shrieked—high, sharp, disorienting—and charged straight at the line.
“Brace!” Jason yelled.
He fired first. The tranq round hissed out with a sharp thunk, lodging into the Echo’s shoulder.
No effect.
Second, third. It kept coming.
The Echo spun, whipping its spiked tail into a ballistic shield, sending the operator skidding backward across the pavement. Its claws carved the asphalt where another trooper had stood a second earlier.
Too close. Too messy.
I stepped in.
“Sound it!” I shouted.
Nick didn’t hesitate. He fired a round into the metal light pole beside the creature.
Clang.
The Echo recoiled instantly, head snapping toward the noise, whiskers flaring.
There it is.
I pivoted and fired low—another shot into the steel pole.
Clang.
It turned towards it—distracted, reactive. It swiped its massive claw and sheared the pole in half.
“Now!” I barked.
Containment moved.
Weighted nets deployed snapping tight around its limbs as multiple lines pulled in opposite directions.
The Echo thrashed violently, dragging two operators off their feet.
A long tongue lashed out like a whip and snatched a tranq rifle from one man’s hands, pulling it in and biting the weapon in half with a metallic crunch.
The shriek that followed rattled the air as it reared up.
Jason sprinted in low, firing several tranqs into its exposed side, then ducked back out fast.
The creature swayed around lazily. The nets pulled tighter. Then… It dropped hard onto the pavement with a heavy thud.
The lot went still except for the straining nets and everyone’s heavy breathing.
I kept my pistol raised. “Hold it. Give it a second.”
No one moved.
After a long moment, the creature twitched once… then went slack.
Lin’s voice came through calm and steady. “Vitals dropping—sedation’s taking effect.”
I exhaled and holstered my pistol. “Good work,”
The containment truck backed into the lot, heavy tires crunching over broken asphalt. A large reinforced container sat mounted on it—thick steel, matte black, lined with anchor points and locking clamps along the outer edges. The kind of box designed for things that don’t belong in this world. The hydraulic platform lowered the container with a slow mechanical whine.
“Bring it in,” one of the operators called.
The team moved with more care now.
No rush.
No noise they didn’t need.
They kept tension on the net as they carefully moved the creature into the unit. It twitched once as they shifted it, but the sedatives held.
Up close, under the vehicle lights, the thing looked different. Less like a monster and more like something that had been forced into the wrong world.
Its sides rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. The thick hide was scarred in places—old wounds between the thick bristles. Its claws, the same ones that tore through concrete and bone, now twitched weakly against the pavement.
It didn’t look angry anymore.
Just… exhausted.
Lost.
I watched with my hands in my coat pockets as the team strapped it in.
“Easy… easy…” someone muttered as they secured the last restraint.
The heavy door shut and the locks engaged with a hiss. The platform lifted.
Hydraulics groaned as the container rose, the team stepping back as it locked into place with a heavy, final clunk.
The sound echoed across the lot like a period at the end of a sentence.
Another Echo contained.
For now.
Jason appeared beside me, his thumbs hooked onto the sides of his vest and smacking his gum again.
“Another monster down for the count.”
He turned toward me. “Think they send them off to a zoo or something?”
I shook my head. “Containment site first. Then relocation, so I’m told.”
He huffed through his chewing.
“They’re not all monsters.” I said, looking back to the containment unit. “This one has just been lost in the dark for too long.”
I adjusted my hat and turned away as the lot settled with the low murmur of professionals gathering their gear and resetting the world back to normal.
But normal’s getting harder to recognize.
The cleanup crew arrived—black vans, hazmat suits, quiet efficiency. They bagged what’s left of the victims, scraped residue from the concrete, photographed every groove and smear. I watched from the edge, arms folded.
It wasn’t long before the garage looked like we were never there, except for the smashed vehicles and the hole in the wall. Those would be trickier to deal with. Some concrete block, mortar, and a stack of paperwork then we might have a clean cover-up. This time.
The cleaners began to disperse, slipping back into the shadows like this was just another job punched on a long list.
I turned to head back toward the SUV when—
“Mr. Wolfe?”
Lin.
“Yeah?”
She stepped toward me, tablet in hand, her eyes up from the screen for once.
“I picked up something before the chase,” she said. “I wasn’t sure then if I should call it out.”
That got my attention.
“What kind of something?”
She handed me the tablet, bringing up a faint waveform—barely there.
“Residual signature,” she said. “A Veil signature.”
My brow furrowed.
“I know,” she replied. “I double-checked. Then checked again.”
I studied the reading. It was weak. Fragmented. But it was there.
“Where?” I asked.
“Other side of the district. I caught it briefly when we came over the bridge.”
I looked at the choppy signal reading for a moment longer, then handed the tablet back.
“Show me.”
We climbed back in the SUV and headed south to the opposite end of the district.
Lin sat forward slightly, tablet angled in her hands, tracking the signal.
“It’s faint,” she said. “But it’s there.”
Jason leaned back in his seat. “Better not be another one.”
I watched the road ahead as we drew closer. It was only minutes away.
Nick slowed the vehicle as Lin guided him.
“There,” she said. “That one.”
An old warehouse sat tucked between two abandoned structures, its exterior worn down by time and neglect. Windows dark. Doors closed. Nothing about it stood out. Which usually meant something did.
We stepped out.
The air felt still here. Quiet. Like the city was holding its breath.
Lin slowed as we stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Signal’s coming from in there,” she said quietly.
We picked the lock. The rusty wheels on the door squeaked, echoing throughout the building as we pushed it open.
Inside, it was mostly empty—wide open floor, scattered debris, old shelving units stripped down to rusted frames. The air smelled stale, untouched.
Our footsteps tapped softly against the smooth concrete floor.
We fanned out left and right. I went up the middle.
Our flashlights cut through the darkness, beams sweeping across an open, mostly empty space. There was a layer of dust across everything.
Jason found the power switch and threw the lever. The electricity crackled and hummed as the overhead fluorescent lights flickered to life. One popped and went out at the back of the space.
“There, that’s better,” he said.
I looked around, eyes scanning for anything.
Just empty space and dust drifting in the air. But somehow the room felt…wrong. Like we were being watched.
Lin took a few steps forward, eyes focused on her tablet again. “It’s here, somewhere.”
I crouched down and examined the floor. The space appeared to be undisturbed… almost. There were the faintest impressions in the dust.
Boot prints.
I stood and stepped lightly, slowly, following the trail.
The prints stopped about ten yards in and vanished.
I looked around. At first, there was nothing. Then, I saw it. Right in the middle of the room.
A distortion.
Subtle. Barely there.
Like looking through a shard of clear glass suspended mid-air. The light bent just slightly through it, warping the edges of whatever sat behind.
I stepped closer.
The hairs on the back of my neck lifted.
“Signal strength?” I asked.
“Almost nothing,” Lin said, glancing at her tablet. “It’s not active. Just… residual.”
Jason crossed his arms. “Residual from what?”
I didn’t answer.
This wasn’t new.
That was the problem.
I’d seen it before.
Different cities. Different jobs.
Same signature.
Same fractured scar.
This one made three. And still no explanation.
“Log it,” I said. “Flag it for monitoring. Any change—any spike—you report it immediately.”
Lin nodded, already tagging the data.
I kept my eyes on the distortion for another moment, peering into it like it might blink.
Then I stepped back and turned away.
“Let’s move.”
—
Back on the other side of the river, the building Division 4 used didn’t look like much from the street.
Just another forgettable shipping business behind a chain link fence with semi trucks and trailers across the lot. The whole place tucked away on an old commercial road.
Normal. That was the point.
Nick pulled around the back and the bay door rolled open before we even stopped, swallowing us into the building.
The real business.
An Anchor stronghold in disguise.
In here, it was all concrete and steel. Racks of gear lined the walls—cases, weapons, containment kits, things labeled in codes instead of names. A small lab was set up in the back. Against the far wall sat our stabilizer units lined up in a row, collecting dust.
Teams moved through the space with purpose, some unloading equipment, others logging reports or checking over damaged rigs.
The hum of generators and quiet conversation filled the air.
Routines, procedures and people settling in.
We stepped out.
Jason peeled off toward the equipment racks. Lin was already halfway to a workstation, her tablet lighting up as she started processing data. Nick followed her.
I spotted the Division Director near the center of the floor, speaking with another one of the team leads. He turned as we approached.
“Mr. Wolfe,” he said, straightening slightly.
I gave a small nod. “Director Lee. How’d it go with the others?”
“Containment held. Minimal collateral. A few bruises, nothing serious. Our Echo is in transit now.”
“Ours too.”
I glanced past him, watching the other crew work.
“They’re solid,” I said. “But they’re relying too much on force during first contact. That thing broke your line faster than it should have.”
He nodded, turning toward Lin and the guys, now settled in on a sofa in the corner. I followed his eyes to them.
“Overall,” I said, “you’ve got good people here. Tighten the coordination, and you’ll be ahead of most divisions.”
“That’s good to hear,” Lee replied.
“It’s honest,” I said.
That mattered more.
My phone buzzed.
I stepped off to the side, pulling it from my coat pocket.
“Hello.”
Gabriella’s voice came through.
“Hey. Just got word, command wants us back at the Harbor.”
Of course they did.
I glanced once more across the floor at the team, relaxed and a bit more cheerful now despite the night we had.
“Alright,” I said. “I’m on my way.”
There was a brief pause on the line. “I’ll have the jet ready. See you soon,” she added.
I allowed the faintest smile. “See you soon.”
The line clicked off.
Nick noticed me and started moving toward the SUV.
“Need a ride?” he said.
I didn’t argue.
The drive to the airfield was quiet. It was still dark out. Traffic was light this time of morning. Just the low hum of the engine and the occasional flicker of passing headlights.
Neither of us said anything.
Nick kept his eyes on the road.
The airfield came into view ahead—low lights, open tarmac, the distant whine of turbines idling.
Nick pulled up alongside a small jet with its rear ramp lowered.
I stepped out, the cool night air cutting through the last of the city heat.
Nick came around the front of the SUV.
For a second, we just stood there. Then I offered my hand.
He took it.
“You did well tonight,” I said. “You kept your head when it mattered.”
He gave a small nod. “Appreciate that.”
“Keep working with your team,” I added. “Use what they’re good at. You don’t carry it alone out there.”
“I know.”
“Make sure they know it too.”
I released his hand. Then, after a second, took a few steps toward my plane.
“You’re not just a consultant, are you?”
I smiled, and turned back to meet his gaze.
“No,” I said. “Officially… Director.”
He nodded once, like that confirmed something he’d already suspected.
“But, I still prefer Detective,” I added, tugging the brim of my hat lower.
That got a smirk out of him.
“Thought so.”
“Keep holding the line,” I said.
I headed for the jet.
The hum of the engines wrapped around me as I stepped up into the cabin and the ramp closed.
The jet was small but comfortable—cream upholstery, wide reclining seats, soft cabin lighting that made the whole space feel removed from the outside world. A built-in wide screen monitor ran along the front bulkhead, still glowing with satellite feeds and signal maps. The kind of setup that said this wasn’t just transportation.
Gabriella was settled into one of the seats near the screen, legs crossed, a mug between her hands. She looked up when I stepped through the door.
“There you are,” she said.
I smirked. “Did I keep you waiting?”
She stood, setting her mug down, and reached up to take my coat from my shoulders without being asked.
“Always,” she said.
She folded it over the seat across from hers, then turned and pressed a kiss to my cheek before handing me a warm mug. I wrapped both hands around it.
I never used to drink tea. But I always did when she made it.
I settled into the seat beside her. She tucked one leg beneath her and leaned back, studying my face the way she always did after a long night. Like she was taking inventory.
“How bad was it?”
“Not too messy,” I said. “But we got it contained.”
She nodded, eyes drifting briefly to the workstation screen before coming back to me. “I saw. Nick held up well.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He did. Good instincts on him.”
I took a sip of the warm amber liquid. “Lee’s division is in good shape here.”
She smiled at that—small and quiet. No matter how long the night had been, seeing her smile again always warmed me more than the tea.
The pilot’s voice came through the overhead speaker, brief and professional. “We’re clear for departure. Wheels up in two minutes.”
The cabin hummed as the engines climbed in pitch.
Gabriella reached over without looking and set her hand on top of mine. I turned my palm up and held it.
“You found something else tonight,” she said. It wasn't a question.
“Another scar,” I said. “Third one.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Same signature?”
“Same everything.”
I set my mug down in a cup holder. “Another pin added to the board, and no clear connections.”
The city lights fell away beneath us as the jet lifted, banking gently toward the eastern coastline. Through the oval window the river caught the first pale suggestion of dawn along the edges of the skyline.
Gabriella’s thumb moved slowly across the back of my hand.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said.
I exhaled slowly, settling into my seat, and resting my hat in my lap.
“I know,” I said, giving her a smile. “We always do.”
For the first time all night, I let myself unwind.
There would be plenty of time to sort out all of the unknowns. But for now…
The Harbor was waiting.