Chapter 63 – N-1004
Early in the morning, Detective Nash Martinez drove her '65 Ford Mustang with unusually bright energy. She sang along to her favorite songs from the playlist on her smartphone.
"Today is going to be a great day," she said to herself.
When she arrived at the main police station, she parked in her designated spot. As she stepped out of her car, she looked stunning: a tailored two‑piece gray suit with darker pinstripes, the fitted pants accentuating her feminine shape. She wore a white blouse with a couple of undone buttons, revealing a hint of her beautiful skin.
Her arms were full—two boxes of donuts and several cups of coffee. She walked inside, where Smith was already waiting.
"Good morning, everyone. Today's going to be a high‑energy day. I brought donuts and coffee for all of you. I need reports on everything. Smith, bring them to my office."
Detective Nash headed to her office, which looked more like a mausoleum than a workplace—dark, minimalist, nothing but her desk and an old filing cabinet. She poured herself a cup of the fresh coffee.
Just then, Smith knocked on the door, carrying Case File N-1004.
"Chief, here's File N-1004. The three disappearances from last week… there's nothing. It's like they evaporated."
Detective Nash took a long sip of coffee, eyes narrowing: "What about the sewer cases? I'm sure they're connected to these disappearances."
Smith hesitated: "Chief… that's the problem. Three entire search‑and‑rescue teams are missing. That's over fifty lives. We have no idea where they are."
Detective Nash remained unmoved by the number, focused: "Smith, what do we have on the ice rink attack? Did we get the security footage?"
Smith nodded: "Yes, Chief. This is Tony—the tech and audio specialist. He has the videos ready."
Tony spoke up: "I've got the originals, Detective. Just need to load them into the system and let my magic fingers work."
Detective Nash replied flatly: "Just do your job."
Tony responded: "Yes, ma'am." He immediately began working.
Ten minutes later, Nash was visibly impatient.
"Officer Tony, almost done?"
Tony assured her: "Just a few more minutes."
A moment later, Tony announced proudly: "Ladies and gentlemen, applause for Tony! I've done it again—where I aim, I hit!"
Detective Nash cut him off: "Enough with the nonsense. You got it working?"
Tony quickly replied: "Yes, sorry, Detective."
Just as the video stabilized on the screen—the office door burst open.
Four men in black suits—black tie, white shirt, polished shoes—marched in, followed by nearly twenty tactical operatives in full gear, faces covered. No names. No badges. No identification.
The leader spoke: "Stop everything you're doing. All evidence, testimonies, and reports are hereby confiscated. Anyone who interferes will be arrested for obstruction and contempt."
Detective Nash's fury erupted: "What the hell is this?! Who the hell are you? This is my division! Back away—NOW. You and you—step away from that computer! You four—touch anything and I'll—"
The Leader raised one hand, freezing his team mid‑action. Then he placed a small phone to his ear.
He spoke calmly: "Yes, this is N-1104. The local chief is… uncooperative. Requesting authorization for protocol enforcement. Understood. Over."
He hung up and stared at Nash with icy indifference. "If that's what you believe, Detective… go ahead."
Detective Nash's tone was dangerously low: "I will. And I'll bury you for this."
Without breaking eye contact, Nash pulled out her phone and called her direct superior.
"Sir Adolfo, what the hell is happening here?"
Adolfo's voice was cold, distant: "Detective, follow the Leader's instructions."
Detective Nash was incredulous: "What? Why? Who are these people? This is my investigation!"
Adolfo cut her off: "Be quiet, Detective. If you disobey, you will be suspended without pay—indefinitely. Understood?"
Her jaw clenched so hard it trembled. The sweetness of her morning vanished, replaced by venom.
She replied, barely audible: "Yes, sir."
Within minutes, the intruders swept the office clean with terrifying efficiency—Tony's computer, the N-1004 file, and even the donut boxes were taken. Nash's office looked as if a hurricane had torn through it.
Seething, Nash stormed down the hall and barged into Director Adolfo Ogerrod's office without knocking. He was, as usual, on a "very important call."
Her voice was broken with rage: "Sir! What the hell was that?! They took my entire investigation—everything my team worked for! I demand an explanation!"
The Director ended his call with a sharp click.
"Sit down, Detective."
Nash refused: "I don't want—"
Director Adolfo's voice was iron: "I wasn't asking. SIT. NOW."
For the first time that morning, Nash lowered her gaze and sat.
Director Adolfo leaned forward: "Listen carefully. I will say this only once. There are powers and interests involved that are far above us. We cannot do anything. We have two choices: stay silent and obey… or lose our careers and our lives. They will bury us alive. Do I make myself clear?"
Detective Nash whispered: "Yes, sir."
Director Adolfo continued: "One more thing—any attempt to obstruct them, and you're fired. Leave my office. And never enter this way again."
Nash returned to her division, furious, her rage simmering under her skin. Her office looked hollow—empty, violated.
"Those bastards… no one threatens me. No one."
At that moment, Smith and Tony peeked into the doorway.
Smith called out: "Detective! Detective!"
Nash snapped: "WHAT!? What do you two want? Leave me alone—go work!"
Smith insisted: "Detective, look! Look at what Tony has!"
Tony opened his hand, revealing a small, discreet flash drive.
Nash's eyes widened, stunned.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Tony nodded proudly: "Yes, Detective. I copied the files while you were arguing with that agent. I even locked them with encryption so no one can delete or open them but us."
Nash's fury melted into a slow, deadly smile.
"Excellent work, gentlemen."
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Hook: And somewhere, a gaze was following his every step…