Chapter 252

Chapter 252:

“The worst kind of enemy,” Chen murmured.

As the team packed up the evidence, Morgan stood at the window, looking out at the city, at the millions of people who would be affected if the main control center was destroyed. Somewhere out there, Herod Preston was hiding, planning his next move.

“We’re not just trying to solve two bombings anymore,” Morgan said quietly. “We’re trying to prevent a massacre.”

Back at FBI headquarters, Morgan stood before a wall covered in photos, documents, and timelines. At the center was a picture of Herod Preston, tall, handsome, with cold eyes that seemed to challenge anyone looking at him.

“Financial analysis came in,” Chen said, entering with a stack of reports. “Preston was on the verge of bankruptcy three months ago. His company was failing, his investments tanking. Then suddenly, he pays off all his debts, starts spending like crazy.”

“Source of the money?” Morgan asked, not looking away from Preston’s photo.

“That’s the thing,” Chen said. “We can’t find it. He emptied several offshore accounts, but we don’t know where those funds came from originally.”

“So he was preparing,” Morgan mused. “Getting his finances in order before launching his attacks.”

A junior agent entered, holding a report. “Sir, ballistics confirmed the explosives used in both substations were military grade, available only through black market channels.”

“Preston has shipping connections all over the world,” Chen noted. “He could have brought them in through any number of ports.”

Morgan nodded as the pieces began to fall into place. “What about his personal life? Any relationships we should know about?”

“He’s been seen at several events with Rose Lewis, 28, the adopted sister of Camille Kane,” Chen said, checking her notes. “But there’s nothing to suggest she knows anything about the bombings. She was at The Plaza Hotel during both attacks, confirmed by multiple witnesses and security footage.”

“Just a coincidence, then?” Morgan said, dismissing it. “Focus on Preston. I want to know where he is, who he’s contacted, and what he’s planning next.” His phone rang, the lab with preliminary results on the notebook found in Preston’s apartment.

“Morgan,” he answered, putting the call on speaker.

“Sir, we’ve confirmed all the handwriting in the notebook belongs to Preston,” came the voice on the other end. “Fingerprints match too. And we found traces of the same explosive compounds used in the bombings on several pages.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, sir. We analyzed the map with the control center circled. Based on the pen impressions, we believe he was planning to attack tomorrow night, around…”

Morgan and Chen exchanged alarmed looks.

“That’s when the Grid is scheduled to reach full operational capacity,” Chen said, checking her tablet. “Maximum impact.”

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