Page 38 of For Blood

*What's your play here, Whitaker?* Morgan thought, her muscles coiled tight, ready to spring into action.*Are you truly innocent, or is this all part of some larger game?*

The air crackled with tension as Whitaker hesitated, his hands still raised.Morgan's instincts screamed at her, warning of impending action.She'd seen that look before – the moment when a suspect decides fight or flight.

"Whitaker," she said, her voice low and urgent."Don't do anything stupid.We can figure this out, but you need to cooperate."

But even as the words left her mouth, Morgan knew it was too late.She saw the decision crystallize in Whitaker's eyes, a split second before he moved.

In a blur of motion, Whitaker pivoted.His elbow connected with Derik's forearm, sending a shock through the younger agent's body.The gun wavered, its aim thrown off just enough.Morgan's heart leapt into her throat as she watched Derik stumble backward, a curse escaping his lips.

"Dammit!"Derik shouted, regaining his footing.

But Whitaker was already moving, his form melting into the shadows of the church parking lot.Morgan's body reacted before her mind could process, muscle memory from years of training kicking in.

"Shit—go, go!"Derik's voice cut through the night air as he broke into a sprint.

Morgan bolted after them, her feet pounding against the pavement.Adrenaline surged through her veins, sharpening her senses.The cool night air whipped against her face, carrying the faint scent of rain and asphalt.

*How could I have been so blind?* she berated herself as she ran.*Whitaker knew too much and was too conveniently placed.Was he involved all along?*

Ahead, Whitaker's silhouette darted between parked cars and streetlights, weaving through the empty streets with uncanny precision.He moved like a man who knew every nook and cranny of this city, every shortcut and hidden alley.

"He's heading east!"Derik called out, his voice strained with exertion.

Morgan pushed herself harder, her legs burning with effort.But even as she ran, a cold realization settled in her gut.Whitaker was outpacing them, his knowledge of the area giving him a clear advantage.

*This isn't just about escaping,* Morgan thought, her mind racing as fast as her feet.*He's leading us somewhere.But where?And why?*

The tattoos on her arms seemed to burn with each pump of her muscles, a reminder of the years stolen from her, of the betrayals that had shaped her life.Was this another betrayal to add to the list?Or was there more to Whitaker's story than met the eye?

Morgan skidded to a halt at the mouth of the alley, her chest heaving as she scanned the shadows.The narrow passage stretched before her, a maze of dumpsters and fire escapes disappearing into darkness.But Whitaker was gone, swallowed by the night as if he'd never been there at all.

Derik stumbled to a stop beside her, bending over with his hands on his knees."Dammit," he gasped, straightening up and shoving his gun back into its holster with more force than necessary."How the hell did he move like that at this age?"

Morgan didn't answer.Her eyes were fixed on the alley, searching for any sign of movement, any clue to where Whitaker might have disappeared.But there was nothing.Just the distant hum of traffic and the faint drip of water from a rusted gutter.

Her mind raced, piecing together the puzzle of the night.Whitaker at the scene, his unexplained presence, his impossible speed.It didn't add up, and yet...something about it felt familiar.An echo of her own past, perhaps.

"He knows something," Morgan said finally, her voice low and tight."No way he just happened to be there.And no way he runs like that unless he's got a damn good reason to."

Derik nodded, still catching his breath."You think he's involved?After all this time?"

Morgan's jaw clenched."I don't know.But I'm sure as hell going to find out."

She turned to face Derik, seeing the concern etched in his tired features.For a moment, she wanted to reach out, to draw strength from the connection they shared.But the weight of her mission, of the truths still hidden, held her back.

"We need to get back to the station," she said instead."Pull everything we have on Whitaker.His history, his connections, everything.If he's running, it's not just from us.There's something bigger at play here."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The city stirred awake, bathed in the pale light of dawn, but there was no peace to be found in the breaking day.Instead, the air thrummed with tension, thick enough to choke on.Squad cars streaked through the streets, their sirens wailing a discordant symphony.Plainclothes officers prowled every corner, eyes scanning faces, hands hovering near concealed weapons.The hunt for James Whitaker was on, and Dallas had become a city under siege.

Morgan stood outside the precinct, her tattooed fingers wrapped around a paper cup of coffee that had long since gone cold.She hadn't taken a single sip.The bitter aroma wafted up, reminding her of late nights poring over case files, of stakeouts that stretched into the early hours.Of a time before prison walls and the weight of betrayal had reshaped her world.

She should have seen it coming.The realization hit her like a physical blow, twisting her gut and leaving her breathless.Whitaker had played them all, herself included.He'd woven a tapestry of lies so intricate, so believable, that they'd willingly followed the path he'd laid out for them.

"Damn it," she muttered, her voice rough with frustration and lack of sleep.She crushed the cup in her hand, coffee spilling over her fingers.The sting of the hot liquid barely registered.

Derik appeared at her side, his presence a familiar comfort even in the midst of chaos."Any word?"he asked, his eyes scanning her face with concern.

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