Shadows of Mr Black

Scene 15

**Scene 15: High Alert**

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The atmosphere in the FBI operations center was electric, the tension palpable as agents monitored the screens displaying the countdown timers for the cities Mr. Black had targeted. Every second felt like a heartbeat, echoing through the room as agents, analysts, and command staff scrambled to decipher the madman's next move.

**Peter:** (urgent tone) “Sir, the timer for Lima, Peru, just started ticking.”

**Mercer:** (leaning forward) “How many days do we have?”

**Daniel:** (quickly checking the data) “Not days, hours. We’ve got 21 hours until the bomb is set to detonate. And that’s assuming Mr. Black doesn’t speed up the timer again like he’s done before.”

Mercer cursed under his breath, running a hand through his graying hair. His usual stoic demeanor was cracking under the pressure.

**Mercer:** (exasperated) “Is there no good news for me today?”

**Luke:** (from across the room) “Sir, we’ve intercepted signals coming from Central Park, New York. We believe these are linked to bombs.”

The room collectively held its breath. Central Park was one of the most populated and iconic locations in the city.

**Mercer:** (standing up, voice firm) “Where exactly in Central Park?”

**Luke:** (typing furiously) “We’re narrowing it down, but the signals are concentrated near the Bethesda Terrace. We’ve got less than two hours until 5 PM if we follow Mr. Black’s previous timers.”

Mercer nodded, his mind racing through the scenarios. Central Park at that hour would be teeming with tourists and locals alike.

**Mercer:** “Luke, take a team and get there ASAP. I want Central Park evacuated discreetly. No mass panic. If those bombs are there, we need to find and disarm them quickly and quietly.”

**Luke:** (already moving) “On it, sir.”

Mercer turned to Peter, who was monitoring the situation in Peru.

**Mercer:** “Peter, take two teams with you and coordinate with the international security forces in Peru. We can’t afford to lose any time.”

**Peter:** (determined) “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure we’re ready to hit the ground running as soon as we land.”

As Peter left to gather his team, Sarah approached Mercer, her expression conflicted between professional duty and personal fear.

**Sarah:** (softly) “Sir, what about me?”

Mercer paused, knowing the question was coming but dreading his answer.

**Mercer:** (firmly) “Sarah, you stay here. We need someone we can trust in the operations center to oversee the intel and coordinate with the teams in the field.”

**Sarah:** (pleading) “But, sir, we’re short on agents, and I’ve been on the ground before. I can help—”

**Mercer:** (cutting her off) “No, Sarah. You stay here.”

The tension between them was thick, the room growing quieter as agents pretended not to overhear the exchange.

**Sarah:** (more insistent, slipping into personal mode) “But, Dad—”

**Mercer:** (his voice a mix of frustration and concern) “Agent Coleman, you stay in headquarters. That’s an order.”

Sarah bit her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat as she struggled with the frustration of being sidelined. She nodded, the professional mask slipping back into place.

**Sarah:** (quietly) “Yes, sir.”

Mercer watched her for a moment, regret flickering in his eyes before he turned back to the screens. He knew how much she wanted to be out there, but he couldn’t risk her life—not when so much was at stake.

As Luke’s team prepared to leave for Central Park, and Peter coordinated with international forces for Peru, the operations center hummed with activity.

**Mercer:** (to the room) “Everyone stay sharp. We have two critical operations underway. We can't afford any mistakes. Mr. Black thrives on chaos—we can’t give him that satisfaction.”

The agents nodded, their faces set in determined resolve. The countdowns on the screens continued to tick away, each second a reminder of the ticking time bombs in their midst.

**Daniel:** (quietly, to Sarah) “We’ll get him. We always do.”

**Sarah:** (forcing a small smile) “I hope you’re right.”

The room fell silent again, the only sound the rapid clicking of keyboards and the steady tick of the clocks. The race was on, and the stakes had never been higher.

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