Page 99 of Beautiful Agony

Rutledge's jaw works as he processes my words. I can see the battle playing out behind his eyes. His desire to nail me to the wall is warring with the reality of what Mackland's confession means.

"Let's cut the bullshit, Stravinsky." Rutledge's weathered face hardens. "This isn't about justice or cleaning up the force. You're just using me as a weapon in your own vendetta."

I let his accusation hang in the air, neither confirming nor denying it. The silence stretches between us like a taut wire.

"Tell me, Captain," I finally say, leaning forward. "When was the last time you looked at your badge and felt pride. Real pride?"

His eyes flick down to the shield on his desk. Something flickers across his face.

"Every morning, I see good officers walk through those doors," I continue. "Men and women who joined the force believing they could make a difference. And every day, they're forced to work alongside pieces of shit like Mackland."

"Don't pretend you care about my officers," he growls.

"I don't. I haven't believed in you people for decades." I meet his gaze steadily. "But like I said: my wife does. And she believes that there are still good cops who deserve to wear that badge with a shred of honor."

"What happens after?" Rutledge's eyes narrow. "After I clean house, what then? You just disappear into the shadows like none of this happened?"

I meet his gaze steadily. "You know better than that, Captain."

"Exactly my point." His fingers drum against the desk. "You're not going to just pack up your operations and leave Seattle."

"There will always be shadow businesses in the system." I keep my voice measured, controlled. "You know this as well as I do. If anything, the system oftenrequiresthese shadow businessesto thrive. But there are certain baselines that everyone should adhere to." I pause. "Even those you consider criminals."

"And trafficking is where you draw the line?" His tone carries equal parts skepticism and curiosity.

"Children being sold like cattle?" My jaw tightens at the memory of what I've seen. "Young girls being used by monsters who claim to be family men? Yes, Captain. That's my line. It should be everyone's fucking line."

Rutledge studies me for a long moment, his weathered face unreadable. Finally, he nods slowly. "I can agree with that."

"I'm not naïve, Captain." I lean back in my chair, feeling the weight of what I'm about to say. "When this is over, you'll come after me. After Svoboda. After everything I've built."

A ghost of a smile plays across Rutledge's face. "You sound almost resigned to it."

"Only a fool wouldn't be." I shrug. "That's a game I'm very comfortable with playing. But right now, I need you to be something else. Something more important than just another cop trying to take down the bratvas."

"And what's that?"

"The face of justice." The words come out more resolute than I intend. "These traffickers, their buyers, and the enablers like Mackland. Every one of them needs to feel the squeeze from both sides. The lawandthe shadows."

"You want me to be the stick you beat them with?" His voice carries an edge.

"I want you to be exactly whatthatrepresents." I gesture to the badge on his chest. "A symbol that makes monsters think twice before buying a human being. Because right now? They don't fear the law. And why should they? So many of the people who profess to enforce it are too busy breaking it while they indulge in this monstrous trade."

Rutledge's eyes narrow as understanding dawns. "So what are we? Good cop bad cop?"

I shake my head, smiling, and tap my chest. "The devil they know."

I point at his badge. "And the law they thought they could ignore."

Silence fills Rutledge's office as he looks down and processes everything I've said. His fingers drum against his desk, faster and faster. I can practically see the gears turning in his head.

Finally, he looks up at me, determination etched into the lines of his face.

"I'll do it." He shakes his head and his face looks like he'd just been asked to drink piss. "Not because you asked. But because I can't sleep at night knowing the badge is being used by pieces of shit like Kirsan." His eyes narrow. "And you."

"That's all my wife wanted to hear." I keep my voice neutral, careful not to let my satisfaction show.

"Let me be clear about something else, Stravinsky." Rutledge leans forward, his voice hardening. "You're absolutely right about one thing. Once this is done? Once we've cleaned up this trafficking mess? I'm coming for you next. I will use everyresource at my disposal to bring you and your organization down. And I won't stop until I cuff you myself."

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