Chapter 44 Watched
“To what do I owe this visit?”
Captain Collins’s smooth voice floated across the office, accompanied by a smile so polished it barely hid the tension underneath. He leaned back in his chair, one brow arching in mock welcome.
Maverick stepped inside, his stride unhurried, deliberate.
He sat opposite him, posture straight, expression carved from ice.
“If you did your job well,” Maverick said coolly, “you wouldn’t see me here.”
Collins chuckled, the sound low, almost purring.
“Well… then I suppose I’ll keep doing a terrible job just to enjoy your company.”
His eyes lingered too long, too heavily on Maverick’s face. A flicker of something more than rivalry flashed there.
Maverick didn’t bite.
He reached into his jacket, pulled out a small USB, and dropped it on the desk with a soft clink.
“You were certain there was no foul play in Private Peter’s case.”
Collins’s brow twitched, just slightly. “What are you implying?”
“The footage was altered,” Maverick said, voice sharp as a blade. “And since your department had exclusive custody of that evidence…”
He leaned forward, his shadow cutting across the desk.
“That means the tampering happened right here. Inside MCID.”
Collins’s smirk faltered not with guilt, but with… irritation? Fear?
He couldn’t tell.
He picked up the USB, slipped it into his computer, and opened the footage. The corridor flickered on-screen.
Silence swallowed the room.
Only the hum of the monitor filled the air.
Collins replayed the footage, eyes narrowing, but his voice stayed deliberately casual.
“Maverick, I don’t see anything. Looks clean to me.”
His lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
“Or did you just miss me?”
Maverick’s eyes darkened.
He stood, moved around the desk, and stopped beside Collins. The air thickened, colder. Collins stiffened not in fear, but something closer to a flustered reaction he tried desperately to hide.
“Watch again,” Maverick murmured as he bent low. “Look for the dot.” He didn’t want to make use of ‘fly’ like John did.
Collins swallowed.
He replayed the clip, frame by frame.
Until the tiny black speck moving along the wall vanished mid-motion.
A glitch.
Collins froze.
Maverick leaned in, his presence suffocating. “Now you see it.”
Collins didn’t look at him. “So tell me, Maverick,” he said softly, bitterly, “what makes you so sure the tampering happened here?”
Maverick’s jaw tightened.
Collins smirked again, shaky but defiant. “From what I recall, you had the footage first. Maybe your department edited it.”
“I never informed MCID about the suspect’s death,” Maverick said quietly, dangerously. “So how did you show up on time?”
Collins’s lips curled as if he’d been waiting for that slip.
“That’s a double offense…”
His voice dropped. “So you finally admit it was suicide?”
Maverick ignored him. “Reopen the case.”
“Why?” Collins stood up as well. His smirk sharpened. “The man killed himself. Unless…”
He stepped closer.
His voice cut like a blade.
“You’d rather I submit the report that you conducted an unauthorized EIT that pushed him too far?”
Maverick’s composure cracked.
“He stole ammunition!” Maverick snapped. Rage flared in his eyes.
Collins closed the distance between them, their faces inches apart.
“Or maybe this isn’t about ammunition, Maverick.”
His voice dropped lower, laced with venom and something personal.
“Maybe this is about your brother. Boyle.”
Maverick froze.
Collins saw the flicker in his eyes and pushed.
“You think this case is tied to his disappearance. You should mourn him and let him go. He’s…”
He didn’t finish.
Maverick’s fist collided with his jaw.
The crack thundered through the office.
Collins staggered, laughing through the blood. “I see you are the violent type”
Another punch split his lip, his laughter mixed with pain and something twistedly delighted.
Maverick finally let him go, chest heaving.
“You’re right about one thing,” he said coldly. “This is about my brother. And I’ll find out who’s behind it.”
Collins spat blood and smirked again.
Maverick straightened, adjusting his uniform, locking his rage back behind steel control.
“I’ll request the case be reopened,” he said. “And I’ll find out who visited Peter before he died.”
He strode out, boots striking hard against the floor.
The door slammed.
Collins’s smirk vanished.
He slammed his palm on the desk, fury ripping through him.
“Fuck!”
He paced, blood dripping from his nose, anger twisting his expression.
He had worked too hard for this position.
Too hard to let someone like Maverick privileged, born into a military legacy ruin everything.
On the morning of Peter’s death, he had received an anonymous text:
Detention Block 3.
He had rushed over.
Because he had wanted to see him, he wanted to undermine Maverick. He wanted Maverick to be below him for once.
Now he realized he had been used.
A pawn in someone else’s board.
He stared at the screen’s frozen glitch.
“Who the hell touched this footage…” he growled.
He snatched up his phone.
“This is Captain Collins,” he said urgently. “I want to make a report…”
Maverick walked out of MCID, fury burning under his skin. He pulled out his phone. The encrypted message he cracked open last night flashed again:
KEEP CHASING AND YOU WILL END UP LIKE YOUR BROTHER.
THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING.
Maverick’s eyes turned black.
He had been right. Everything, the stolen ammo, Peter’s death was connected. Someone was watching him. Closely. And the person was getting nervous Hence the message.
He exhaled slowly, steadying his pulse.
Whoever thought they could threaten him… would regret it.
He turned toward his car.
He would reopen this case.
He would tear apart every lie.
No matter what it cost
\~~~~~~~~
Streaks of light cut through a dark room
Screens lined the wall, each displaying an angle of the base. Corridors,Offices,Armory, Detention block. Everything.
On the largest screen was Maverick walking out of the MCID office.
“He’s not stopping, is he?” the first figure said quietly.
The second leaned back into the darkness, rolling two metal balls between his fingers. The faint clink… clink…clink echoed through the room.
A cold smirk curled across his lips.
“Maverick Richard…” he murmured.
“…doesn’t know when to quit.”
The balls rolled again, metal whispering in the quietness.
“Shall we intervene,sir?” the first asked.
The second paused.
His smirk widened.
“No. Let him dig.”
He leaned forward.
“It’ll be fun when he reaches the grave"