At DEA headquarters, Noah stood in the War Room surrounded by his team, coordinating multiple simultaneous operations. On one screen, analysts were processing the documents recovered from the LIE intercept. On another, surveillance feeds showed HTBB's known locations. On a third, a growing file on Thomas Brennan—the corrupt marshal who'd fled after Vega's murder.
"Update on Brennan," Lewis reported. "We tracked his personal vehicle to a long-term parking lot at Newark Airport. Security footage shows him entering the airport thirty-six hours ago, but after that, the trail goes cold. He either used a false identity to board a flight, or the airport was a diversion and he left via other means."
"Check private aviation terminals, bus stations, train stations," Noah ordered. "He had time to plan this—probably had an escape route ready long before we identified him. And contact Interpol. If he's running internationally, we need to know where he's going."
Reeves looked up from her analysis. "I've been digging into Brennan's financials. The payments from HTBB went into an offshore account, but I traced the withdrawals. He's been moving money to multiple accounts in Caribbean tax havens—Cayman Islands, Bahamas, Turks and Caicos. Total amount over two years is approximately one hundred twenty thousand dollars."
"That's what he sold out for," Coe said bitterly. "One hundred twenty thousand dollars and a federal witness dies."
"There's more," Reeves continued. "Brennan had access to the witness protection database for his entire fifteen-year career. If he was selling information to HTBB for two years, we need to review every case he touched during that period. There might be other witnesses who were compromised, other investigations that were sabotaged."
Noah felt the weight of that implication. How many witnesses had trusted federal protection, only to have their locations sold to the people they were testifying against? How many investigations had failed because criminals knew in advance what law enforcement was planning?
"Get the Marshals Service on it," Noah said. "Full audit of every case Brennan was involved with. Cross-reference with any suspicious incidents—witnesses who disappeared, cases that fell apart, security breaches that were never explained."
His phone rang—the US Attorney's office. He answered immediately.
"Agent Jogensen, this is AUSA Jennifer Morrison. I'm handling the potential cooperation agreement with Danny Reese, one of your arrested HTBB operatives. His attorney has reached out about a deal."
"What's he offering?"
"Direct testimony about HTBB's operations, his personal involvement in Benjamin Perez's murder, and information about Vancouver Sell's role in the organization. In exchange, he wants reduced charges—manslaughter instead of murder, with a sentencing recommendation of fifteen to twenty years instead of life."
"Can he connect Eliot King directly to criminal activity?"
"That's unclear. His attorney claims he has information about King's involvement, but won't provide specifics until there's a signed agreement."
Noah considered this carefully. Reese's cooperation could be valuable—another insider providing testimony, another voice confirming HTBB's criminal operations. But it could also be a trap, an attempt to waste their time with useless information or to discover what evidence they already had.
"Tell his attorney we're interested, but we need a proffer session first. Reese comes in, tells us what he knows, and we evaluate whether it's worth a deal. If his information is valuable, we negotiate terms. If it's not, no deal."
"That's standard. I'll set it up for tomorrow morning."
After the call ended, Noah updated his team. "Reese is making cooperation noises. Could be legitimate, could be HTBB trying to infiltrate our investigation or waste our time."
"After what happened to Vega, would Reese really risk cooperating?" Coe asked.
"He's looking at life without parole for murdering a federal agent. That's powerful motivation. And maybe he thinks he's smarter than Vega, thinks he can cooperate without HTBB finding out."
"Or maybe HTBB wants him to cooperate," Reeves suggested. "Feed us false information, mislead the investigation, find out what we know. Vega's murder sent a message to loyal operatives, but a fake cooperator could serve their interests too."
Noah nodded. "Which is why we verify everything he tells us, assume nothing, and keep him isolated from any information about our actual investigative priorities. If he's genuine, his testimony will be valuable. If he's not, we'll figure it out quickly enough."
Garcia entered the War Room, looking energized. "I've got something. The financial documents from the LIE intercept—I've been tracing the money flows, and I found a pattern. Large transactions, always on the fifteenth of each month, moving through a series of shell companies before ending up in offshore accounts. The amounts vary, but they're all substantial—between five and fifteen million dollars per month."
She pulled up a chart showing the money movements. "This is systematic, professional money laundering on a massive scale. And here's the interesting part—the timing of these transactions correlates with major events in JK Mallman's legitimate business empire. When he closes a big deal, when he sells a company, when he has any major financial activity, these suspicious transactions happen shortly afterward."
"So Mallman generates money through illegal means, disguises it through his legitimate businesses, then HTBB launders it and sends it offshore," Noah said.
"Exactly. And I found something else—there's a transaction scheduled for tomorrow. Eight million dollars, moving through a new series of shell companies I've never seen before. Different route, different intermediaries, but the pattern is identical."
Noah felt a surge of adrenaline. "Can we intercept it?"
"If we move fast. I'll need warrants to freeze the accounts, court orders to seize the funds, coordination with international law enforcement since some of the accounts are offshore. But yes, it's possible."
"Do it. Get the warrants, get the seizure orders, coordinate with whoever you need. I want that eight million dollars frozen before it leaves US jurisdiction."
This was the opportunity Noah had been waiting for—a chance to hurt HTBB financially, demonstrate to their clients that their money wasn't safe, and potentially gather evidence about current operations rather than relying solely on historical intelligence from Benjamin and Vega.
"What if HTBB is expecting us to try this?" Coe asked. "What if they're setting up this transaction as a trap, using it to expose our investigative methods or to claim harassment?"
"Then we'll deal with that. But we can't let opportunities pass because we're afraid of complications. Aggressive pursuit is how we're going to win this—keep them off balance, force them to react to us rather than plan ahead."
Over the next several hours, the team worked frantically to prepare for the interception. Garcia coordinated with the US Attorney's office to obtain emergency warrants. Reeves analyzed the shell companies involved in the transaction, identifying vulnerabilities. Webb and his team prepared surveillance operations to observe any physical movement of funds or personnel connected to the transaction.
By 11 PM, they had everything in place. Court orders were signed, federal agents were positioned at key financial institutions, and international law enforcement partners were standing by to freeze offshore accounts on Noah's signal.
"Tomorrow morning, the transaction is scheduled to begin moving at nine AM," Garcia reported. "We'll be watching every step. The moment the funds hit an account we can legally access, we freeze it and seize the money."
Noah looked around the War Room at his exhausted but determined team. "This is it. This is where we demonstrate that HTBB can't operate with impunity, that their money isn't safe, that we're closer than they think. If we pull this off, we'll have dealt them a significant financial blow and gathered evidence about their current operations."
"And if we don't pull it off?" someone asked.
"Then we try again. And again. Until we succeed." Noah's voice was hard and certain. "HTBB murdered Benjamin Perez. They murdered Marcus Vega. They've corrupted federal officials and killed witnesses under protection. Every day they continue to operate is an insult to justice. Tomorrow, we start making them pay for that."
As the team dispersed to get some rest before the operation, Noah remained in the War Room, staring at the organizational charts and financial diagrams covering the walls. Somewhere in New York, Vancouver Sell was preparing to move eight million dollars, confident that HTBB's new protocols would protect the transaction from law enforcement interdiction.
He was about to learn otherwise.