Page 61 of Twice Missing
"Ah, another one," McKenzie muttered.
"Who's that?" Riley asked, curiosity piqued.
McKenzie, who had been listening to Noah's side of the conversation, chimed in. "Scotland Yard's finest. Angus McKenzie," he said, loud enough for Riley to hear.
Noah rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he’s so fine they shipped him off to New York," he jested, before turning his attention back to Riley. "Anyway, we agreed no strings attached."
"You can't blame a girl for trying," Riley said, her tone softening. "Anyway, how's your love life?"
"You don't even want to know," Noah replied, his voice heavy with unspoken complications.
More gunfire erupted, punctuating the conversation.
"I'll see what I can do," Riley said, her voice turning professional once more. "In the meantime, don't go breaking any other girls' hearts."
Noah's laugh was tinged with a hint of sadness. "No, they just break mine."
Riley's laughter echoed through the phone before she disconnected, leaving Noah to face the chaos before him once more. He pocketed his phone, his mind already racing with the possibilities Riley's help might bring. Despite the gravity of the situation, he felt a glimmer ofhope. With Riley's assistance, they might just crack this case wide open.
The tense standoff was suddenly interrupted by the deep rumble of an approaching vehicle. Noah and McKenzie turned to see a massive armored truck rounding the corner, its black exterior gleaming ominously in the winter sun. The SWAT team had arrived.
The truck veered sharply, coming to a stop with a hiss of air brakes. Its imposing presence drew the attention of the few neighbors who had dared to venture outside to watch the commotion. Officers quickly moved to usher the onlookers back into their homes, creating a wider perimeter around the danger zone.
"This is about to get real," McKenzie muttered, his eyes fixed on the truck.
The back doors of the armored vehicle burst open, and a team of heavily armed officers poured out. Their movements were crisp and coordinated as they fanned out, quickly conferring with Detective Oates and the other officers on scene.
Oates nodded grimly, then approached the edge of the police line once more, bullhorn in hand. His voice boomed across the snowy landscape, amplified and authoritative.
"Marcus! This is your last chance. Come out peacefully, and we can resolve this without anyone else getting hurt."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, a window shattered, and Marcus' voice rang out, raw with anger and fear. "If you try to come in here, I'm going to shoot! I swear to God, I'll do it!"
Oates' shoulders sagged slightly, but his voiceremained firm. "We don't want that, Marcus. Let's talk about this. We can work it out."
"Work it out?" Marcus' laugh was bitter and sharp. "There's nothing to work out. Just leave me alone! You are on my property."
Noah could see the SWAT team leader shaking his head. Negotiations were clearly not going well.
Suddenly, the air was filled with a series of sharp pops. Flash-bang grenades arced through the air, crashing through the trailer's windows. Brilliant flashes of light erupted inside, followed by thunderous booms that Noah could feel in his chest even from their distant vantage point.
Before the echoes of the explosions had faded, a SWAT officer with a battering ram charged towards the door. With a mighty swing, he smashed it open, the metal frame buckling under the force.
"Go! Go! Go!" The shout rang out as a line of SWAT officers poured into the trailer, their weapons at the ready.
24
The world held its breath for a moment. Then, gunfire erupted again, the sound muffled yet strikingly intense. Shouts mingled with the crash of furniture being overturned, echoing into the crisp morning air. Noah and McKenzie stood transfixed, eyes wide as chaos unfolded before them. Minutes felt like hours, stretching endlessly, until silence finally descended once more.
Two figures emerged from the trailer, roughly handled by SWAT officers. Noah leaned forward, straining to get a better look. Both men had long, dark hair. They wore checkered shirts over white muscle undershirts, their work boots leaving deep imprints in the snow.
One of the men — Marcus, Noah presumed — walked with a steady gait, his face a mask of defiance. The other seemed unsteady on his feet, his eyes unfocused. Noah recognized the telltale signs of someone under the influence.
As the two men were loaded into the back of a waiting van, Noah turned to McKenzie, his expression grim. "Well, that's one way to end a standoff," he said, his voice tight with tension.
McKenzie nodded, his eyes still fixed on the scene before them. "Aye, but something tells me this is just the beginning of our troubles."
The van's doors slammed shut, and Noah couldn't help but wonder what secrets these two men held — and how they might connect to the tangled web of mysteries they'd been trying to unravel.
