The atmosphere inside the precinct changed the instant Special Agent David Carter stepped through the door. Moments earlier, the station had been humming with casual chatter — officers leaning on desks, phones ringing, printers spitting out paperwork. But the quiet confidence that Carter carried with him washed over the room like a cold wave. Conversations died mid-sentence. Chairs stopped creaking. Even the fluorescent lights seemed to buzz more softly, as if they, too, acknowledged the shift in energy. Carter wasn’t just any agent. He was a highly respected federal officer with nearly twenty years of service in the FBI — someone known...
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