Present day…
The department's main hall buzzed with stiff uniforms, polished badges, and the low rumble of uneasy whispers. Rows of high-ranking officers filled the space like an audience at a funeral they weren't ready to attend. At the front, Assistant Chief Tina Cole Williams stood beneath the harsh white lights, her expression carved from stone.
"As you all know," she began, her voice cutting through the room, "two days ago we recovered the body of Detective David Moore. And the initial report confirms he was murdered by his partner, Detective Waller Greene." She paused, letting the shock—or what was left of it—settle. "This was premeditated. And to make matters worse, Waller Greene is currently in the wind."
A ripple of murmurs swept through the hall, a mix of disbelief, anger, and fear.
No one noticed the hooded man standing along the far wall, half-shadowed by a support pillar and the flickering projector. His posture was still, casual even, but his eyes tracked every word, every twitch, every person in uniform. Waller Greene. Watching the department mourn one partner and hunt the other.
He had slipped in with a group from Internal Affairs—same walk, same pressed suit, same air of exhaustion everyone else wore. Badge lanyard borrowed, ID turned face-down against his chest. Enough to pass for someone who belonged.
From where he stood, he could see Tina's jaw tightening as she continued.
"Greene didn't just vanish. Someone helped him—or he had this escape planned long before the murder."
Waller's fingers curled in his pockets. They thought he ran because he was guilty. They didn't know he was here because he couldn't afford not to hear who the department believed he'd become.
And they certainly didn't know that the real killer was somewhere in the same room, watching this show play out the same way he was.
But Waller did.
And he wasn't leaving until he figured out who had turned his life into a manhunt.
The Chief of Police rose from his seat, and the entire hall fell into a silence so heavy it felt like the air itself froze. Devon Michael didn't need to demand attention—his presence did that on its own. Broad-shouldered, gray creeping into his beard, eyes sharp enough to cut through armor. Everyone straightened as if the floor itself warned them.
He stepped up beside Tina Cole Williams, his voice low but carrying through the room like a verdict.
"As you all know," he said, pausing just long enough for every heartbeat to echo, "I was once friends with Waller Greene, Benjamin Moshack… and lastly, Andrew Gates."
Whispers rose, then died instantly under his glare.
"In those early years, the three of them were among the best this department had. Dedicated. Focused. Loyal." He exhaled slowly, jaw tightening. "But they were also part of an investigation—one we buried deeper than most because of how dangerously close it cut."
Waller's chest tightened from his place in the shadows. Devon never spoke about the past. Never publicly acknowledged that case.
Devon's eyes scanned the crowd, but Waller could tell—they weren't looking at the officers. They were searching the room for ghosts.
"Some of you may remember the Devon case… the death of my own sister, Emily Michael." His voice cracked for a fraction of a second—only the old guard would've caught it. "Waller Greene and Benjamin Moshack led that investigation. Andrew Gates supported them from intel division."
The hall went still again. No one breathed.
Devon continued, his tone darkening.
"Shortly after that case blew open, all three of them suddenly withdrew. Their reports incomplete. Their statements inconsistent. Their cooperation vanished. And not long after… Andrew Gates went missing. Never resurfaced."
A cold wave hit the room.
Waller felt it too—from inside his hood, hidden among strangers, hearing his name dragged into a history he had tried to bury.
Chief Devon Michael leaned closer to the mic, his voice hardening into steel.
"I am telling you all this because I believe Detective David Moore's murder is connected to what happened back then. And I will not allow another officer—another friend—to be lost because we hesitated."
He straightened.
"Find Waller Greene. Bring him in. Alive."
His final word rang through the hall.
And for a second, Waller swore Devon's gaze locked exactly where he stood—like the Chief somehow knew he was there, watching, breathing the same air as the people hunting him.
Waller looked up directly at Devon Micheal as his mind began to calculate.
Maybe Devon knew all along but choose to orchestrate everything just to bring down the only people who are capable of standing in his way.
Waller lifted his head just enough for his eyes to meet Devon Michael's across the crowded hall. In that split second, his thoughts sharpened like blades.
Maybe Devon knew all along.
Maybe every accusation, every leaked report, every twisted lie was part of a plan—his plan.
A way to break down the only people who had ever gotten close enough to uncover what he'd buried.
A way to dismantle the last three men capable of stopping him.
Devon's speech slowed. His gaze swept over the crowd once more—then froze.
Right on Waller.
For the first time in years, Devon's composure cracked. His eyes widened, and his hand twitched toward his side as if instinctively reaching for a gun he wasn't carrying.
"Waller—" he breathed, barely audible.
But by the time the word formed, Waller was already gone.
One moment he was standing between two uniforms who never even glanced his way.
The next, he slipped back into the shadows behind a column, down the dim side corridor, and out through a service exit. No sound. No trace.
A ghost in a room full of hunters.
Devon surged forward from the podium, shoving officers aside.
"SECURE THE BUILDING! NOW!" he barked, panic bleeding through authority.
But outside, Waller was already blending into the cold morning crowd, hoodie up, pace steady, mind racing. Devon had seen him—confirmed it. Which meant the game wasn't beginning.
It had already begun.
Waller slipped into a narrow alley, the sounds of the city muffled behind him. His breath came in harsh, uneven pulls—half from the sprint, half from the weight crashing down on him. Sweat trickled down his temples, mixing with the grit of the day, his pulse still hammering from the moment Devon's eyes locked onto his.
He braced a hand against the wall, trying to steady the chaos inside him.
"I can't keep running," he whispered, voice rough, almost breaking under the pressure.
A beat.
Then his jaw tightened.
"No… I'm ending this. All of it. Every last one of them."
The resolve in his chest hardened, cold and deliberate.
He pushed himself off the wall and stepped deeper into the alley's shadows where the afternoon light couldn't reach. The darkness swallowed him bit by bit as he walked—slow, deliberate, controlled. Each step carried the weight of his past, and the fire of a man who'd finally chosen war over survival.
Waller Greene disappeared into the dark of day, no longer just hunted—
—but hunting.
TINA'S POV
I pushed open the door to the chief's office, expecting the usual stern, unshakable Devon Michaels—the man who never flinched, never cracked, never let anyone see past the armor he wore like a second skin.
But today…
He wasn't the chief.
He was just a man.
Devon sat behind his desk with his elbows planted on the wood, his head buried in his hands. The blinds behind him filtered thin lines of light across his shoulders, but none of it softened the exhaustion carved into his posture.
For a moment, I froze.
It wasn't fear—just surprise. In all my years working under him, I'd never seen him like this.
"Chief?" I finally asked, stepping in and closing the door behind me. "You… alright?"
He didn't look up.
Not immediately.
"Tina," he said at last, his voice low, strained. "Tell me—did the team find anything else on Greene?"
Waller Greene.
My chest tightened at the name. Not because I feared him—but because I didn't believe the story they were selling. The department gathered like he was some monster lurking in the shadows… yet every report felt too neat, too prepared, too pointed.
"No new leads yet," I replied carefully. "But… chief, something about this case doesn't sit right with me."
He sighed, long and heavy, like the weight on his shoulders belonged to years of secrets.
"You're not the only one who feels that way," he muttered.
I blinked.
Devon Michaels—the same man who stood before the entire department and condemned Waller as a fugitive and murderer—was now expressing doubt?
Or was it guilt?
I took a small step forward. "Sir… if you're holding back anything—anything that could help us understand what's really going on—you need to tell me. I can't do my job if I'm working blind."
Devon's hands fell slowly from his face. His eyes were red—not from anger, but from something deeper. Something darker.
"Tina," he said quietly, "you don't understand the kind of danger this is."
"Then help me understand."
He stared at me for a long, unreadable moment—like he was deciding whether I deserved the truth… or whether it would destroy me.
Finally, he spoke:
"The Eclipse… they're not just after Greene."
My breath hitched.
The Eclipse. The name whispered through hidden channels, buried reports, classified files. The kind of syndicate you didn't investigate unless you wanted to disappear.
"They're after anyone who gets too close," Devon continued, "and that includes you."
A chill dragged down my spine.
"And if Waller's alive," he added, voice dropping to a near whisper, "then things are already worse than you think."
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice.
"Chief… what aren't you telling me?"
Devon stood—slowly—and walked around the desk until he was inches from me.
"Tina," he said, "you're involved in this deeper than you realize. They already marked you."
My heart skipped.
"Why?" I whispered.
Devon looked away, as if the truth was too heavy to deliver head-on.
"Because of who your father was."
My blood froze.
And suddenly… Waller Greene wasn't the only ghost I needed answers about.
The shadows of the present problem had found me too.
"My father?" The words barely made it past my lips. "Chief, what does my father have to do with any of this?"
Devon's jaw tightened. He didn't answer right away, and that terrified me more than anything he could have said.
"You were never supposed to know," he murmured.
"Know what, Devon?"
He exhaled slowly—like he was about to tear open a wound that never healed.
"Your father wasn't just an officer, Tina. He wasn't the man you were told he was. He was… one of us. One of the original agents assigned to the very first Eclipse operation."
My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
"That's impossible," I whispered. "My father died in a car crash when I was seven."
Devon's eyes lifted to mine—haunted, apologetic.
"That wasn't an accident."
My breath caught.
"He was murdered," Devon continued softly. "And his death is what started the Eclipse war in the first place. Greene, Ben, Andrew… even me—we were recruited because of what happened to him. Because he discovered something he wasn't supposed to."
I shook my head slowly, refusing to believe what I was hearing.
"If that's true… why didn't anyone tell me? Why keep me in the dark?"
"Because your father made us promise to," Devon said. "His last request was to keep you out of this world. Out of their reach."
A sharp ache spread across my chest.
"And we failed," he added. "Because now they know exactly who you are."
I steadied myself on the edge of his desk, my legs suddenly weak.
"What did he find, Devon?" I demanded. "What secret could possibly be worth killing an entire team over?"
He hesitated—truly hesitated—like saying it aloud might summon something from the shadows.
Finally, he leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Your father discovered the identity of Eclipse's first founding member."
My pulse stopped for a second.
"And whoever that person is," Devon said, "they've kept themselves hidden for over twenty years. They're still out there… watching everyone who gets too close."
I stared at him, my entire world reshaping itself.
"My father… he knew the mastermind?"
"He did," Devon said.
"And he died for it."
A cold, crushing silence filled the room.
"And now," he added quietly, "they think you know it too."