Page 89 of Dead Air
The tactical officers spun toward the windows, weapons rising. Byrd's hand froze mid-gesture as the situation collapsed around her carefully maintained control.
"Ma'am, we need to move." The nearest officer stepped toward Byrd.
"Stand down." Byrd's command carried absolute judicial authority. "I'll handle federal coordination."
"This is Special Agent Komarov. The property is surrounded. Exit with hands visible. No weapons. Comply immediately or face federal prosecution for obstruction."
Richardson kept his weapon trained on Byrd despite the chaos erupting around them. "Sounds like your federal connections aren't as solid as you claimed."
"Komarov follows proper channels." Byrd's confidence wavered for the first time. "Judicial oversight guides his investigation parameters."
The pool house door exploded inward. Federal agents in tactical gear flooded through the entrance, weapons trained on everyone inside. Red laser dots danced across walls and equipment. Professional voices barked commands, overlapping into controlled chaos.
"WEAPONS DOWN! HANDS VISIBLE! EVERYONE ON THE GROUND!"
Parks immediately dropped his pistol, hands rising above his head. "Lieutenant Parks, Internal Affairs. We're cooperating fully."
Lawson released her grip on her weapon but didn't drop it. "Detective Lawson. We have a federal informant and evidence of judicial corruption."
The lead agent swept his rifle across the room's occupants. Body armor marked with FBI identifiers. Face shield reflecting the harsh lighting. "Judge Byrd, you're under federal arrest for conspiracy, racketeering, and murder of a federal agent."
Byrd's gaze darted between the federal agents and the glass door leading to the rear garden. Her hand slipped inside her blazer, emerging with a small pistol. Before anyone could react, she fired once at the nearest light fixture. Glass shattered, plunging half the room into darkness.
"Shots fired! Everyone down!" The lead agent dropped to a crouch as his team scattered for cover.
In the momentary chaos, Byrd bolted toward the rear door, moving with surprising speed for her age. She crashed through the glass, disappearing into the darkness beyond.
"She's running!" Richardson shouted, already moving after her. "East side of the property!"
Lawson didn't hesitate. She vaulted over an overturned chair, following Richardson through the shattered doorway. Glass crunched under her boots as she sprinted into the night. Ahead, Byrd's pale suit caught moonlight as she raced toward a wooded area at the property's edge.
"Federal agents! This is Morrison. Suspect fleeing east toward the tree line. All units converge!" The radio call crackled behind them as the FBI team reorganized.
Richardson kept pace beside Lawson, weapon drawn. "She's heading for her escape route. Underground tunnel system. Connects to the river. Boat waiting."
"How do you know this?"
"Been watching her for years." Richardson's breathing remained controlled despite their sprint. "Documented every contingency plan. Every escape route."
Byrd reached the trees, disappearing into the shadows. Lawson and Richardson plunged after her, branches slapping against their faces. Somewhere behind them, federal agents shouted commands, flashlight beams cutting through the darkness as they organized pursuit.
"Left her tactical team behind," Richardson said. "They're just hired muscle. No loyalty once things go south."
Ahead, moonlight revealed a small stone outbuilding half-hidden by overgrown vegetation. Byrd yanked open its wooden door and disappeared inside.
"There!" Lawson increased her pace, Richardson matching her stride for stride.
They reached the outbuilding seconds later. Ancient gardening equipment hung from rusty hooks. A wheelbarrow lay overturned in one corner. The dirt floor showed clear footprints leading to what appeared to be a root cellar door.
Richardson pulled it open, revealing stone steps descending into darkness. "Stay with Parks and Blackwell," he told Lawson. "I'll track her through the tunnel."
"Not a chance." Lawson checked her weapon. "She killed my partner. I'm seeing this through."
"Then we go together." Richardson started down the steps. "Watch your footing. These tunnels were built during Prohibition. Not maintained in decades."
Lawson took one last look behind her. Federal agents were spreading through the garden, flashlights sweeping across the manicured lawn. Parks stood in the shattered doorway of the pool house, watching her disappear into the outbuilding. Then Lawson descended into darkness after Richardson, following the woman who had ordered Monica's death, the judge who hadcorrupted an entire justice system, the killer who had finally run out of legal protections to hide behind.
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