Error. [H.S.]

3.

TW: Beginning in this chapter, this story will feature discussions of murder, crimes, etc. Unless descriptive of an incident, I will not be including mentions of murder/murderers in the TW. Please read at your own discretion!

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Trepidation was thick among the silence; the subdued lighting of the conference room hallowing out the blank, yet stern faces of the higher-ups that sat at the head of the table. I scanned the table momentarily, quickly finding a seat besides Niall in hopes to draw in as little attention as possible. The blue eyes from beside me give me a cautious look, signalling to the woman wearing a badge off the collar of her blazer with "Lead Financial Advisor". I respond with a slight nod, immediately understanding his worrisome glances. The last time she graced the team with her presence, we were presented with several budget cuts that ultimately resulted in the loss of several team members, including one from my father's unit.

I slowly rose my laptop screen upright, a bright glow reflecting off my cheeks as I open a blank document.

"Where's 22-David and 26-David?" A taut voice excused the silence, immediately drawing all eyes to him. The Commander locked eyes with each team member, prying for answers. Sitting besides my dull-faced father with the Captain to his left, Commander Wilson had no tolerance for tardiness.

Truly a fearful trio to see united, I quickly responded. "Liam and Louis will be right in, they just had a... Situation they were cleaning up." A disgruntled nod was the only response I receive as I sunk back into my seat, shifting my focus to my screen. My fingers pricked the keys to compose out a short sentence while I nudged Niall's foot with my sandal.

Ramona gave me some intel... It's not a pretty case.

His brows met upon reading my screen, furrowing in confusion.

Re-opening a case from a few years ago. Tore my dad to pieces.

Niall shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew exactly what case I was referring to. A questioning head tilt silently pondered the reason why, but I had no idea. I shrugged, nodding to my screen again.

Ramona said it has something to do with-

"Nice to see you gentleman are taking the job seriously." Commander Wilson interrupted my typing to greet Liam and Louis, the latter entering with a crisp white butterfly bandage across the bridge of his nose. "Re-evaluations are coming up in a few months. I would hate to hand over your positions on the team to some new recruits."

The duo muttered apologies and sat at the oblong table.

"Again." My dad chimes in harshly, fist banging against the wooden surface. "Correctly this time." The two men hastily adjust their posture and issue an apology to the Commander again, this time clear and concise with their words.

I can't help but stare at my dad, his body language was so closed off - he was the visual representation of numbness.

"By now, you all are accustomed to a routine." Narrowed eyes fixated on the plethora of banker's boxes that lined the table, different time frames and last names penned perfectly on the label, each letter written with meticulous precision. "We meet, we discuss tactics, and then we execute. If we're lucky, we succeed. When we don't, we debrief, adjust, and attack." My dad halts his words for a minute, running a hand through his peppered tresses. "Again, again, and again, until we succeed."

Incredulity knotted in my stomach, my eyes were locked on my dad. Nobody in the room dared to look elsewhere, because judging by the tone in his voice, the harshness roared a demand to be acknowledged with only full attention. "So what happens when we fail after multiple strategic attempts?" A blunt sharpness ceased the movement of oxygen to my lungs, consternation quickly overriding my being. This question wasn't meant to be answered. "The case goes cold."