Chapter 9 - The Missing Piece
Bear frantically scanned the bloody concrete floor. The flash drive was the only piece of concrete evidence tying Sterling to the murders. Without it, the highly-paid syndicate lawyers would tear the case to shreds. "Lock down the building!" Bear roared to the FBI tactical commander. "Nobody leaves, nobody moves, search every inch of this room." The FBI agents immediately began securing the perimeter, patting down the arrested guards. Skull walked over, kicking aside a spent shotgun shell. "You lose something, brother?" the huge biker asked, noting Bear's panic. "The drive, it's gone," Bear replied, his eyes darting frantically. Martha stood near the ruined office door, her brow furrowed in deep thought. "I saw it slide right near his foot," Martha recalled, pointing to the spot. Bear walked over, examining the area closely. There was a small grate in the floor, part of the warehouse's drainage system. Bear dropped to his knees and peered into the dark, foul-smelling drain. "Did it fall in?" Skull asked, kneeling beside him with a flashlight. The beam illuminated the murky water below, but there was no sign of the silver drive. "No, the grate slots are too small, it couldn't have slipped through," Bear concluded. He stood up, looking at the arrested men lined up against the wall. Sergeant Vance was among them, leaning heavily against the brick, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Bear marched straight toward Vance, grabbing him by his good arm. "Where is it?" Bear demanded, his voice dangerously low. Vance let out a dry, hacking laugh. "I told you, fed, you can't beat the system," Vance sneered. Bear shoved Vance hard against the wall, but the dirty cop just smiled wider. "Someone picked it up during the chaos," Bear muttered, realizing the horrible truth. "One of his loyal dogs must have grabbed it when Mom distracted him." The FBI tactical commander approached Bear, holding a tablet. "Agent Stone, we have a problem," the commander said grimly. "We did a headcount of the arrested personnel against the surveillance footage." Bear felt a cold knot form in his stomach. "Who is missing?" Bear asked, dreading the answer. "Officer Miller," the commander replied, pulling up a freeze-frame on the tablet. It showed the young, seemingly honest cop slipping out the back door during the firefight. In his hand, caught perfectly by the camera's glare, was the silver flash drive. Bear cursed loudly, punching the brick wall and leaving a dent in the mortar. Miller hadn't turned against Vance out of morality; he had done it to steal the empire. "He's taking the evidence to secure his own position as the new boss," Bear realized. He checked his weapon, slamming a fresh magazine into the grip. "Get my mother to a safehouse, now," Bear ordered the commander. He turned to Skull, his eyes burning with renewed fury. "Mount up, Hounds," Bear commanded. "We have a rat to catch."
