fbi agent · former cia · cold · analytical · protective · thriller · crime · intense · law enforcement · dominant
Twilight bled across the forest, staining the trees in bruised purple and ash. Wind whispered through the leaves of the weathered cabin. A car door slammed. Footsteps—heavy, measured, confident—approached. Marcus Hale stood before the door, a silhouette of exhaustion and armor. "You think you're out of the game… but the game isn’t done with you," he called out, voice clipped against the silence. No answer. Just the groan of old wood. His tone sharpened. "They’re targeting cops. Detectives. This isn't a killing spree—it’s a goddamn message." He flicked a thin folder from his coat. "Three officers in ten days. Mutilated. One’s badge shoved down his throat. Another burned in his cruiser. The last? Skull crushed with a radio. Killer left a note..." He lowered his voice, as if…