Chapter 5: Don't Let Me Down
Samantha's POV
My pulse quickened. Finally - my first real assignment as a full agent. Maybe something international, or a complex case that needed fresh eyes.
I straightened up, ready for whatever challenge he was about to throw at me. "Sure thing, sir."
He nodded. "Let Sarah show you around headquarters. Also, take a tour and meet everyone."
I froze instantly. What? That was it?
Here I was, expecting my first real case, maybe something that would prove I belonged here. Instead, he was sending me on a glorified office tour like some new intern.
The disappointment burned so bad I couldn't keep quiet.
"But sir, I think - "
Harrison held up his hand, stopping me mid-sentence. His voice got softer.
"Samantha, I've been training you for three years. I know what you can do." He paused. "But trust me, I need to talk this through with the other guys first. You think too much sometimes. Don't read into this, okay? Now go on."
I took a deep breath and said, "Yes, sir!"
As I turned to leave his office, I saw him pick up the phone again and heard him say quietly: "I need some experienced hands... come to my office... right now."
Then I stepped out and closed the door behind me.
Sarah was bouncing outside Harrison's office like she'd had way too much coffee.
"So? How'd it go? Did he give you the whole 'welcome to the big leagues' speech?" Her green eyes sparkled with excitement. "Please tell me there wasn't more paperwork."
"Something like that." I watched as another agent hurried past us toward Harrison's office. Then another. All senior guys, all looking serious as hell.
What's so important that Harrison is calling in all the experienced agents?
"Come on!" Sarah grabbed my arm. "I know you've been here three years, but this is different! You're officially one of us now. I've got so much to show you!"
She dragged me down the hall, chattering about office politics and case files I'd heard about a million times. But I couldn't focus. Every few seconds, another agent rushed past us. Supervisors, senior agents, people who actually mattered when big decisions got made.
"You know," Sarah said, still completely oblivious, "you're the first person Harrison personally recruited. Everyone's dying to know what makes you so special."
"I'm not special. I just work hard."
If I were so special, why was he keeping me away from whatever was happening in that room?
Sarah pulled me into the break room. The coffee machine gurgled in the corner, filling the air with that burnt smell. Through the window, I could see Harrison's office. The blinds were drawn now, but shadows moved behind them.
A lot of shadows.
"Sarah." I dropped into one of the beat-up chairs. "What kind of case needs that many supervisors?"
She followed my gaze and shrugged. "Could be anything. Kidnapping, terrorism, organized crime..." She studied my face. "You look frustrated. First day nerves?"
"I hate being kept in the dark," I said, wrapping my hands around the coffee mug she'd shoved at me. "Especially when something this serious is obviously happening."
"Maybe Harrison just wants to ease you in? You know, start small instead of throwing you into the deep end?"
Or maybe he thought whatever was happening was too dangerous for a new agent.
The thought was better than thinking he didn't trust my abilities, but it still stung. All those late nights going over case files. The way he'd pushed me harder than anyone else in training. The look in his eyes when I solved problems other agents missed. I thought I'd proven myself.
Harrison didn't do anything without a reason. It was probably because he was protecting me, not because he thought I was useless.
But that didn't make me feel much better.
Sarah was talking about some office romance when another agent appeared in the doorway. This one looked focused, not panicked.
"Samantha! Sarah! Harrison wants you both. Now."
My heart jumped. Finally. He's decided to include me after all.
Sarah nearly knocked over her coffee. "See? Told you he'd bring you in!"
We followed the agent back down the corridor. My palms were sweating, but I tried to ignore it. Whatever this was, it was my first real test. I couldn't screw it up.
Harrison's office felt completely different now. What had been a celebration twenty minutes ago looked like a war room. Three supervisors stood around his desk, studying what looked like crime scene photos. The air was thick with tension and something else - the feeling that always came with violent death.
Harrison looked up when we walked in. "Thompson, your first official case just landed."
The words should have excited me, but the faces around me suggested this wasn't going to be simple.
"Fredericksburg PD called for help with a homicide," Harrison continued, sliding a manila folder across his desk. "The situation is... unusual."
"We need experienced agents on this, but it's also good training for newer personnel."
Sarah practically vibrated with excitement beside me.
I opened the folder carefully, ready for crime scene photos. The first page was basic info: victim ID, location, time of discovery. Standard stuff, except for one detail that made my blood go cold.
"The victim is Emma Wilson," Harrison was saying, but his voice sounded far away. "Daughter of a prominent businessman, parents died three years ago, accomplished ballet dancer. Found dead in her apartment this morning under disturbing circumstances."
I flipped to the next page. A brief scene description made my stomach tighten.
"The local chief is Tom Richards," Harrison continued. "Twenty-year vet, solid cop, but he's never dealt with anything like this. His exact words were..." Harrison checked his notes. "'I've been a cop for twenty years, and I've never seen something this twisted. It's like something out of a nightmare.'"
Sarah let out a small gasp. Even she could understand what it meant when a seasoned police chief was rattled enough to call in federal help.
But I was barely listening. My attention was locked on the crime scene description. No photos, just a few brief sentences: "Victim found in living room, positioned in seated posture on hardwood floor. Wearing white ballet tutu and glass slippers. Body arranged with arms extended as if mid-dance, head tilted at unnatural angle. Makeup applied post-mortem - theatrical, doll-like."
Professional. Clinical. But revealing something twisted.
My hands stayed steady as I closed the folder, but inside, my heart was hammering.
"When do we leave?" I asked. My voice came out calmer than I felt.
"Now," Harrison replied. "Richards is waiting for you on scene." He paused for a moment, looking directly at me with intense gray eyes. "This case is going to test everything you've learned."
"Remember, don't let me down."