Page 5 of For Fear

Silence blanketed the room, heavy and oppressive. Morgan could feel the weight of their shared history pressing down on them both. She wasn’t just fighting for herself anymore; she was fighting for the truth, for Mary Price, for Thomas, and even for her father’s legacy.

"Okay," Mueller finally nodded, a grim determination settling onto his features. “I’m glad you came to me with this. I’ll need to start digging. We need evidence—something concrete to expose Cordell and his people. But we have to tread carefully. If Cordell has men inside the Bureau…”

"Then we’ll expose them," Morgan cut him off, her resolve hardening. “I won’t back down. Not again. Not when I’m so close to the truth.”

She could see Mueller weighing his options, the worry lines etched deep on his forehead. But she wasn’t asking for permission—she was declaring war. The stakes had never been higher, and if they didn’t act fast, they would lose everything.

“What do you want to do, Cross?” Mueller asked. “Lay low? Keep working? Whatever happens, it can’t be known that I’m involved in this. If we end up with a case, I should still assign you to it.”

Morgan nodded. “I won’t let Cordell win, and I won’t run. If he really wanted me dead on that pier, I doubt the sniper would’ve missed. They were aiming for Thomas… but that doesn’t mean Derik or I are in the clear.”

"We'renotin the clear," Derik added, his voice low and steady. He had been quiet, observant, soaking in everything that was happening around him. But now, he was stepping forward, bracing himself against the tide that Morgan was stirring up. His gaze was fixed on Mueller, a silent challenge etched onto his face. "If Cordell is as dangerous as we think he is, then he won't hesitate to take any of us down."

There was a long silence where the ticking of the clock seemed to echo loudly in the room. Mueller squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, looking older and more worn out than Morgan had ever seen him. But when he opened his eyes again, there was a newfound determination in them.

"Alright," He intoned grimly. "Then it's settled. We move carefully, and we make sure to watch each other's backs. This is not just about taking down Richard Cordell anymore; it's also about protecting ourselves and ensuring that the FBI remains what it should be—a pillar of justice."

It wasn’t exactly an inspirational speech, but hearing Mueller putting all of his cards on the table gave Morgan an unexpected sense of relief. She nodded tersely at him, her mind already whirring with strategies on how to outmaneuver Cordell.

She just hoped her trust in Mueller wouldn’t prove to be misplaced.

CHAPTER THREE

The fluorescent lights of the FBI headquarters buzzed like angry hornets, casting a sickly pallor over Morgan's tattooed skin. She strode through the hallway, her boots echoing against the linoleum, trying to ignore the knot in her gut that screamed this was all wrong. Derik walked beside her, his usual crisp appearance marred by dark circles under his eyes and a slight tremor in his hands.

"You hear about Grady?" A hushed voice caught Morgan's attention.

She froze, her body tensing like a coiled spring. Derik's hand brushed her arm, a silent reminder to keep moving.

"Yeah, found dead by the pier. Crazy shit," another agent replied.

Morgan's jaw clenched, her teeth grinding together as she fought to keep her face neutral. She could still see Thomas's body sinking into the inky water, could still hear the crack of the sniper's rifle.

"Break room," she muttered to Derik, changing course abruptly.

They slipped into the small room, blessedly empty save for the droning of a TV mounted in the corner. Morgan's eyes locked onto the screen, where a reporter stood at the edge of the pier, her perfectly coiffed hair whipping in the wind.

"The body of Thomas Grady, 36, was recovered from the water early this morning,"the reporter announced, her voice devoid of emotion."Police are investigating the circumstances surrounding his death."

Morgan's chest tightened, a cold numbness spreading through her limbs. She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white.

"Jesus," Derik breathed, running a hand through his slicked-back hair. "It's surreal, seeing it like this."

Morgan nodded, unable to tear her eyes from the screen. "They don't know shit," she said, her voice low and harsh. "They don't know he was trying to help us. They don't know about Cordell, about any of it."

Derik stepped closer, his presence warm and solid beside her. "We'll make it right, Morgan. We'll take Cordell down."

She turned to face him, searching his green eyes for any hint of doubt. "You sure about that? Because right now, it feels like we're in way over our heads."

"Maybe we are," Derik admitted, his lips quirking into a humorless smile. "But when has that ever stopped you?"

Morgan let out a bitter laugh. "Fair point." She glanced back at the TV, where they were now showing a photo of Thomas. "I hated that bastard for so long. Now..." She trailed off, unable to put words to the complicated tangle of emotions in her chest.

"I know," Derik said softly. He reached out, his fingers intertwining with hers. "We'll figure this out, Morgan. Together."

She squeezed his hand, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability before the mask slipped back into place. "Yeah, well, let's hope Mueller comes through. Otherwise, we might be joining Thomas sooner rather than later."

As if summoned by her words, a shadow fell across the doorway. Morgan's head snapped up, her body tensing for a fight. But it was just Mueller, his expression unreadable as he jerked his head, silently commanding them to follow.

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