Francis took a breath. It tasted like exhaust and river salt.
Below, the water looked like lead. From sixty feet, it might as well be concrete.
He didn't care. He hadn't planned for a "tomorrow" anyway. He faced the other side of the bridge. Blue and red lights flashed across his face.
Years of preparation had led to this moment. Even being cornered was part of his plan—to expose the justice system to the world.
"Statement?" He spread his arms wide, a broken man against the sunset. "You want a statement? Fine. Put it on the news."
The police line tightened. A dozen Glock 17s aimed at his chest.
Behind them, the reporters with long lenses and phones held high. Cars that were just passing the bridge had slowed to witness the scene.
Right now, the whole nation was watching.
"Detective Morrison!" Francis's voice didn't shake. It cut. "Look at me."
Morrison stepped forward, unable to hide the tension in his face. "Please, step back. We can talk this through."
"Talk? Like we talked six years ago?" Francis sneered, contempt dripping from every word. "When you told me the Senator's son was 'just a kid who made a mistake'? When you told me to take the settlement, bury my girls, and move on?"
"It was a legal matter, My hands were tied—"
"Ninety miles per hour," Francis snapped, his voice cracking like gunfire. "Through my fence. Into my garden, while I was away serving our country!"
"My girls were too young. They were all I had left of my late wife… and those bastards took them from me while they were wasted and high!"
Morrison clenched his fist. "It was an accident, Francis."
"It might have been an accident, but what they all did after… that's what drove me to this," he snapped back.
"The tox report was tampered with. The judge called it 'unfortunate.' One year of house arrest for two lives." Francis leaned over the rail. "And then what did those bastards' parents do? They sent me to die on the front line."
He threw his head back, laughing maniacally, fingers digging into his forehead. "It's fine. I've already evened the score with them."
"Francis, don't—"
"The Senator? I bled him in his own bathtub. The Judge? He's in my basement, or what's left of him. The prosecutor is fish food in the bottom of the sea." Francis started laughing.
"Check the cloud drive I just leaked. Every scream. Every plea for mercy. It's all there. The 'Butcher' sends his regards."
A phone buzzed in Morrison's pocket. Then another. The reporters were looking at their screens, gasping. The confession was already viral.
It was a video of him admitting to killing several politicians and high-ranking officials, along with evidence of their corruption and wrongdoing. Some were even shown engaging in illicit acts that were cruel and inhumane.
He also admitted to one of the most high-profile massacres, where a group of wealthy and influential individuals on a vacation island were murdered.
Along with all that came his own confidential record.
Francis Hall. Former Tier-1 Operator. The man the government sent when they wanted a problem to stop breathing.
The revelation struck like a bomb. A man who should have been hailed a hero was driven to become a vigilante, forced by circumstances.
It made reporters, viewers, and even officers question who the real villain was.
"But I saved the best for you, Detective." Francis pulled a burner phone from his pocket and tossed it. It skidded across the asphalt, stopping at Morrison's boots.
It rang instantly. Private Number.
Morrison answered. His hand began to shake. His eyes went wide, reflecting a horror deeper than the river.
"W…What did you do?"
"My associate is outside your house, Morrison. Your wife. Your twins. They're fine. For now."
"You monster," Morrison choked out.
"The corrupted justice system made me one. I serve the country, and it betrayed me." Francis's voice dropped. "Your life for theirs. One bullet to head. Right now. Or they burn. Choose."
The radio chatter went nuclear. Officers looked at each other, paralyzed. Morrison's service weapon felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"The clock is ticking, Detective. Is your life more important than your family?"
"I…" His grip tightened on the pistol. A couple of officers grabbed his arms, speaking rapidly, trying to calm him down.
"So this is it? You're going to say you were stopped, and that's why they died? You're useless. If it were my kids, I would have thrown away everything to save them."
Francis's hand trembled over the railings. In reality, he never intended to kill Morrison's family; he just wanted him to feel the same pain he had, even if only for a moment.
BANG.
Francis was blasted backward over the rail.
"NO!!!" Morrison dropped to his knees, screaming into the wind.