Page 162 of Pack Frenzy
Blake’s attorney bolts to his feet. “Objection! The prosecution is attempting to revisit an incident my client was already cleared of. Prior bad-act evidence is inadmissible and grossly prejudicial.”
The judge barely glances up. “Overruled. The testimony is being offered solely to establish pattern, opportunity, and motive relevant to the current charges. The jury will consider it for that limited purpose only.”
The jurors shift—some leaning forward, some paling. They know Meredith’s name. Everyone does. And now they’re hearing it tied to Sabrina.
Garcia continues, “We executed search warrants on Nexus Solutions and the Callighan properties. What we found was a pattern.”
The room stills.
“A Nexus security guard, Vincent Torrance, had been working with Mr. Callighan for years. His job was to identify vulnerable Omegas—those without strong family support or legal recourse. He arranged ‘accidents’ that left them isolated.”
Garcia pauses to shuffle a few papers. “We also interviewed two additional Nexus security officers who responded to the transport crash. One of them, a Mr. Harlan, is here today.”
An older man stands from the second row, weathered face, Nexus pin still on his lapel. He gives the judge a short nod, then glances toward me. There's something in his expression: apology, maybe. Or recognition that he'd been part of a system that almost swallowed me whole.
Garcia continues, “According to their statements, the crash triggered an automatic alert to Nexus HQ. Harlan and Reynolds were rerouted to assist before the local authorities arrived. When they reached the scene, they found Ms. Mancini unconscious and Officer Torrance already on site. Torrance claimed he was following extraction protocol. They transported her to Nexus.”
Garcia glances at his notes. “Internal logs also show that instead of waiting for authorized medical personnel, Officer Torrance administered a suppressant injection on scene.”
A ripple of sound moves through the courtroom, and several jurors shift in their seats at that—one of them leaning forward like he can’t believe he just heard that right. Another juror covers her mouth.
“This is highly irregular,” Garcia continues. “Only Nexus medical staff are permitted to administer suppressant doses—both for safety and for dosage accuracy. Torrance’s report listed it as standard protocol, but the vial number he used wasn’t logged in Nexus inventory. It was a private stock, provided off-record.”
My pulse stumbles.He was going to take me to Blake.That’s why he tasered me, he wanted me unconscious so no one would know. Bile rises in my throat and I swallow hard, fighting nausea.
Nine years ago, he killed Meredith. Seven years ago, he took Sabrina. And now, this year, he came for me. Same pattern. Same man. Same system that kept him protected.
And that shot—God. It explains the wrongness humming under my skin those first nights. The heat came too soon. No wonder my body felt wrong from day one. Because it wasn’t a Nexus dose at all. Torrance drugged me with whatever Blake wanted in my veins and probably only long enough until he could get approval to take me out of Nexus. Just like Sabrina.
“Subsequent investigation shows Torrance falsified his report to conceal communications with the defendant,” Garcia says. “The suppressant Torrance administered,” Garcia adds, “was later tested. It contained a diluted formula that’s used in illegal transfers because it gives handlers a shorter window before the Omega cycles again. He intended to take Ms. Mancini to an off-site holding facility under Mr. Callighan’s direction. The emergency response disrupted the transfer, so Torrance administered a diluted dose—fast-acting, short-lived. Exactly the kind preferred when an Omega’s heat is meant to be used, not delayed.”
Across the aisle, two of Blake’s attorneys lean in fast, whispering in sharp, frantic bursts. One taps a pen against his notepad like he’s trying to erase the last ten seconds. Even they didn’t expect that bomb to drop.
“Objection,” one of Blake’s lawyer’s yells.
“Overruled.” The judge motions to Garcia and he hands over a piece of paper that I’m sure has the details of what they pumped into me.
“Your Honor, these communications were recovered only after we obtained a court order for the full server logs,” Garcia says. “Mr. Mercado’s analysis flagged multiple irregularities—scrubbed timestamps, encrypted partitions, and missing intake records tied specifically to Ms. Mancini and another Omega, her sister. He could not access the restricted files themselves, but his findings indicated deliberate tampering.”
Garcia looks toward Eli. “Those anomalies gave us probable cause to pursue a full forensic warrant. Once granted, the recovered logs revealed Torrance coordinating directly with the defendant regarding Ms. Mancini’s ‘extraction window.’”
I look toward the older guard. He meets my eyes for a heartbeat and gives a slight nod, small, almost apologetic, before sitting back down.
My throat tightens. One minute of timing, one alert, one man doing his job right, and I’m still here.
“How many Omegas?” Delgado asks.
“We’ve confirmed at least nine,” Garcia says. “Over seven years. Roughly one every few months. Each disappearance was filed as a voluntary transfer. The records were scrubbed.”
Nine. Not counting Meredith and any other Omegas or females he might have snatched. My heart is heavy with all those innocent women.
The jurors’ faces tighten, some of them staring down at the table like they’re trying to swallow what nine really means.
“And Nexus’s role?” Delgado asks.
“Three council members accepted bribes from Blake Callighan’s father to suppress complaints. The payments ranged from fifty thousand to half a million dollars.”
Gasps ripple through the room. The judge bangs her gavel for silence.
