2026-01-07 02:42:28
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THE HUNT BEGINS
Rain fell like accusation during double funeral that nobody wanted but circumstances demanded.Vivian's service drew modest crowd—former colleagues who remembered her before hatred consumed everything, distant relatives who attended from obligation rather than affection, and Diane who sat in wheelchair with shoulder still healing from wound her daughter had inflicted in final moments of sanity dissolving.Ryan's funeral happened simultaneously in adjacent chapel. Empty. Not single mourner sat among pews that could've held hundreds. Even death couldn't inspire forgiveness for man who'd betrayed everyone who'd ever trusted him.Diane spoke at Vivian's service with voice that had aged decades in single week. "My daughter was victim. Of circumstance that pushed her toward darkness. Of manipulation by people who saw vulnerability and exploited it. Of hatred that consumed her until nothing else remained."She paused, collecting strength that grief had stolen. "But in her final moment, she c
NEVER HAD A CHANCE
Four people, three guns, one bomb, and time running out like blood from wounds that kept multiplying.Ryan's weapon tracked between targets with calculation of man who'd spent career evaluating risk-reward ratios. "Lower the gun, sweetheart. This is business, not personal. You understand business."Vivian's face shifted through emotions too fast to catalog as realization crashed through delusions that had sustained her through months of deterioration. "The bomb was YOUR idea. You convinced me to plant it. Told me it was only way to make Ethan suffer. But you were setting me up to take blame while you profited from insurance fraud.""You were always so easy to manipulate." Ryan's smile was casual dismissal of woman whose life he'd destroyed for profit margins. "The jealous ex-wife? Perfect patsy. Authorities would've blamed you for everything while I collected forty million and disappeared into retirement nobody could trace."Vivian's scream was primal thing—years of manipulation and b
APOLOGY CAME TOO LATE
Patricia's revelation detonated worse than any bomb could've.FBI command center erupted into motion as agents scrambled to verify threat that sounded like dying woman's final manipulation but couldn't be dismissed without confirmation. Tracking Vivian's ankle monitor became priority one in operation that had already stretched resources past breaking point.Location pinged back within seconds—Cross Enterprises headquarters.The building was full. Five hundred employees working late on quarterly reports that had deadline tomorrow, unaware they were sitting in structure that might become tomb if Vivian had followed through on whatever insanity Patricia had recruited her for."Monitor was disabled twenty minutes ago." Agent Torres pulled up timeline showing signal going dark. "Security didn't flag it because system's been glitchy since her initial arrest. Assumed it was technical error rather than deliberate sabotage."Security footage showed Vivian entering through service entrance wher
WORST-CASE SCENARIO
"Four."Ethan's hand moved toward weapon with calculation racing faster than Patricia's countdown.He could shoot her before she triggered detonation. Bullet through center mass would drop her instantly. Problem was the detonator itself—dead man's switch designed so releasing button would send signal just as surely as pressing it.Patricia had thought of EVERYTHING. There was no winning move in game she'd rigged from inception."Three.""Let her go!" Lily's scream carried desperation that broke around edges. "I don't care about revenge! I don't care about justice! Save my parents! Just let her walk away!""Two."Ethan's face was stone carved from decision that would haunt him regardless of outcome. "I'm sorry, Lily. But I can't let her win. Not this time. Not ever."His weapon rose with precision born from years pulling triggers when hesitation meant death.Patricia's smile widened with anticipation of detonation or martyrdom—either outcome satisfied delusions that had consumed ration
MAKING IMPOSSIBLE DECISIONS UNDER FIRE
Chaos tasted like failure served cold.FBI command center erupted into coordinated panic as every federal agency mobilized searching for woman who'd escaped custody while making fools of people whose job was preventing exactly this scenario. Airports received alerts. Border crossings went on high alert. Safe houses were raided with aggression born of embarrassment.But Ethan knew Patricia wasn't running.She'd spent twenty-five years orchestrating revenge that was personal rather than profitable. Running meant abandoning satisfaction of watching him suffer, and Patricia valued vengeance more than survival."She's not fleeing." His voice cut through tactical discussions about perimeter searches and dragnet operations. "She's attacking. Question is WHERE."Marcus pulled up psychological profile his team had compiled during investigation. "Patricia doesn't want random casualties. Body count is secondary to making YOU suffer specifically. Target will be personal. Somewhere that matters to
WATCHING THEM ALL BURN
The FBI emergency session felt like tribunal where justice had been gagged and bound in corner while pragmatism sat at head of table making decisions that would haunt everyone present.Patricia sat in interrogation room looking composed despite circumstances that should've broken her. Expensive lawyer materialized within hours—woman named Alexandra Volkov who specialized in making impossible cases winnable through technicalities and moral blackmail."My client has information about imminent terrorist attack on US soil." Volkov's voice carried professional detachment of surgeon discussing amputation. "Coordinated assault planned for seventy-two hours from now. Major metropolitan area. Conservative estimate puts casualties in thousands."FBI Director James Morrison paced conference room adjacent to interrogation, watching Patricia through one-way glass with expression mixing revulsion and desperation. "She'll provide details?""Only if granted full immunity from all charges, witness pro
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