Chapter 28: The FBI Watches

Agent Sarah Chen's POV

"All units, we have movement!"

I pressed my earpiece deeper as I watched through binoculars. Enzo Rossi was getting into his black car. Finally.

"Target is leaving the compound," I whispered into my radio.

We'd been watching the Rossi estate for two weeks. Waiting. Something big was coming. We could feel it.

My partner Jake grabbed his camera. "Think this is it?"

"Has to be. Enzo never leaves without his full security team."

But today was different. Only two bodyguards. And Enzo looked scared.

Really scared.

My phone buzzed. Text message from an unknown number.

Check your email. Now. - A Friend

"Jake, cover me."

I opened my laptop. New email. No sender name. Just a video file.

"What is it?" Jake asked.

"Not sure yet."

I clicked play. Security footage appeared. Black and white. Old.

A warehouse room. Two women at a table.

My heart stopped.

"Jake. Look at this."

The younger woman was Claire Morrison. Our agent who died twenty-six years ago. The case that started my career.

The older woman sitting across from her...

"Is that Maria Rossi?" Jake asked.

"It can't be. Maria's been dead for three years."

But on the video, Maria pulled out a gun. Shot Claire in cold blood.

"This changes everything," I whispered.

My radio crackled. "Agent Chen. Boss wants to see you. Now."

"We're in the middle of surveillance."

"Now, Chen."

Something in the voice made me worried. I looked at Jake.

"Take over. Don't lose Enzo."

I drove back to FBI headquarters fast. Too fast. But my mind was racing faster than my car.

If Maria killed Claire, then Maria wasn't really dead. Which meant...

I parked and ran inside. Director Walsh was waiting in his office. He looked angry.

"Sit down, Chen."

"Sir, I need to show you something. About the Morrison case."

"The Morrison case is closed."

"No, sir. I just received evidence that—"

"I said it's closed!"

Director Walsh had never yelled at me before. Never.

"Sir?"

He pulled out a thick file. Dropped it on his desk.

"Agent Sarah Chen. Ten years with the bureau. Perfect record. Until now."

"I don't understand."

"You've been compromised."

"What?"

"Someone's been feeding you false information. Using you."

My stomach dropped. "The video I just received..."

"Fake. Computer-generated."

"That's impossible. The timestamp, the quality—"

"Can all be faked by someone with the right skills."

I stared at him. "You already knew about this."

"We've been monitoring your communications. Someone's been playing you like a puppet."

"Who?"

Director Walsh opened the file. Photos spilled out.

Photos of me. Meeting with Morrison at a coffee shop.

Me taking an envelope from him.

Me accessing classified files on my computer.

"We never met," I said. "I've never seen Morrison except in old case files."

"The photos say otherwise."

"Then the photos are fake too!"

"Are they?"

He slid another photo across the desk. This one was different. Clear. Recent.

Me shaking hands with a man in a hospital parking garage.

I remembered that day. But the man wasn't Morrison.

"That's Dr. Richards. My mother's cancer doctor."

"Look closer."

I picked up the photo. Studied the man's face.

My blood turned to ice.

It was Morrison. But twenty years younger. Without the gray hair. Without the lines.

"You've been working for Morrison for months," Director Walsh said. "Whether you knew it or not."

"That's impossible. My mother's doctor—"

"Is Morrison's son. Dr. Michael Morrison. He's been reporting your family's conversations to his father."

The room started spinning. "My mother's cancer treatment..."

"Real. But every time you visited, you were being recorded. Every conversation about your work. Every case detail."

"He used my mother's cancer to spy on me."

"He used your love for your mother to manipulate you."

I felt sick. "How long have you known?"

"Two days. We were going to arrest you yesterday."

"Were?"

"Something changed. Last night we intercepted a call. Morrison is planning something tonight."

"What?"

"We don't know. But it involves the Rossi family. And his supposed granddaughter."

"Selena Rossi?"

"You know her?"

I nodded. "She's been on our watch list. Daughter of Enzo Rossi."

"Not daughter. Kidnap victim."

"What?"

Director Walsh pulled out another file. "DNA results came back an hour ago. Selena Rossi is Claire Morrison's biological child."

"Claire had a baby?"

"Three months before she died. Morrison has been searching for that child for twenty-six years."

"And now he's found her."

"And now he wants revenge."

My radio crackled. Jake's voice, urgent.

"Chen! Come in!"

I grabbed the radio. "I'm here."

"Enzo Rossi just got grabbed. Black van. Professional job."

"Where?"

"Three blocks from his estate. But Chen... that's not the worst part."

"What?"

"The van was FBI."

Director Walsh went pale. "That's impossible."

"Sir?" I said into the radio. "Are you sure it was FBI?"

"Positive. I got the license plate. It's registered to our motor pool."

Director Walsh grabbed his phone. Started dialing.

"Get me the motor pool... What do you mean van 47 is missing?... Since when?... And nobody reported it?"

He hung up. "Someone stole one of our vehicles. Two hours ago."

"Morrison," I said.

"Has to be."

My phone rang. Unknown number again.

"Don't answer it," Director Walsh ordered.

But I was already pressing accept.

"Agent Chen." The voice was calm. Professional.

Morrison.

"We need to talk."

"You're under arrest."

"No. You're going to help me."

"Never."

"Check your mother's medical file. The real one."

"What?"

"She doesn't have cancer, Sarah. She never did."

My world tilted. "You're lying."

"The treatments she's been getting? Experimental drugs. But not for cancer."

"Then for what?"

"Memory enhancement. My son has been testing ways to improve recall. Your mother was his test subject."

I couldn't breathe. "What memories?"

"She was there the night Claire died. Your mother witnessed the murder."

"That's impossible. My mother was never—"

"Your mother was Claire Morrison's roommate. Before Claire went undercover. They were best friends."

The phone fell from my hand.

Director Walsh picked it up. "Morrison? Morrison!"

But the line was dead.

"Chen, what did he say?"

I couldn't answer. My mother. The woman I loved most in the world. Had been lying to me my whole life.

"Chen!"

"He said... he said my mother saw Claire Morrison die."

"Your mother was eight years old when Claire died."

"No. She wasn't."

I grabbed my phone. Called my mother's number.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Voicemail.

"Mom, it's Sarah. Call me back. Right now. It's important."

I hung up. Tried again.

Still voicemail.

"We need to check on her," I said.

Director Walsh nodded. "Take two agents."

But my radio crackled again. Jake's voice. Panicked now.

"Chen! Emergency at the warehouse district!"

"What kind of emergency?"

"Building 46 just exploded. Massive blast. Fire department's on scene."

"Any survivors?"

"Unknown. But Chen... we found something in the debris."

"What?"

"A body. Female. Been dead for years."

"How many years?"

"Medical examiner says... twenty-six."

I dropped the radio.

Claire Morrison. The real body. Hidden all this time.

"Chen," Director Walsh said quietly. "If Claire's body was in Building 46..."

"Then who's buried in her grave?"

My phone rang again. My mother's number this time.

I answered fast. "Mom?"

"Sarah?" But the voice was wrong. Scared. Shaky.

"Mom, where are you?"

"I... I don't remember."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't remember anything. Where I am. How I got here. Sarah... help me."

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone. My hands were shaking.

"Jake," I said into the radio. "I need you to check something."

"What?"

"The body in the warehouse. Does it match Claire Morrison's DNA?"

"Already ran it. It's a match."

"And the body in Claire's grave?"

"We're digging it up now."

Five minutes later, Jake's voice came back. Quiet. Shocked.

"Chen... the body in Claire's grave..."

"Yeah?"

"It's your mother."