Nobody moved.
The grenade changed the house immediately. It made the walls feel thinner, the room smaller, the air heavier. Dana could hear someone behind her whisper an oath before catching himself. Frank stared at the object in Brian’s hand with the stunned disbelief of a man whose fear had already been full and had just been asked to make room for more.
Brian held the grenade up near his shoulder, not close to Frank, but close enough that the threat became the center of the room.
Dana did not describe it over the radio.
She kept her voice calm and said, “Possible explosive device visible. Everyone hold positions.”
Outside, command would understand enough.
Inside, she refused to let Brian see what the sight of it did to her.
“Brian,” she said, “put it down.”
He laughed. “You don’t give orders in my scene.”
“This isn’t your scene.”
“It became mine when you crossed the doorway.”
“You called us here.”
Frank’s eyes snapped toward her.
Brian’s face twitched.
There it was.
A crack.
Dana followed it.
“You wanted us here,” she said. “You didn’t just come for the file. You needed a reason to turn this into a police incident.”
Brian shifted behind Frank. “Careful.”
“You needed witnesses. You needed body cameras. You needed Frank scared. You needed me walking in and seeing him in front of you.”
“I said careful.”
“Why?”
His eyes went flat.
“Because you’re not as smart as you think.”
Dana took one slow step to the side, just enough to improve her view of Frank’s face without changing the threat angle too sharply. Brian noticed immediately.
“Stop moving.”
She stopped.
“Okay.”
“You always do that,” Brian said.
“What?”
“Make people think you’re listening while you line up the next move.”
Dana almost smiled, but did not. “That’s called listening.”
“No. That’s called building a report.”
A report.
Another crack.
Dana kept her eyes steady. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
He did not answer.
Frank whispered, “He said the reports were dead.”
Brian yanked him tighter.
“Shut up.”
Dana saw the pain in Frank’s face and made a decision. Brian was not just angry. He was trying to prevent Frank from saying very specific things. That meant Frank knew the center of it.
“What reports, Frank?” Dana asked.
Brian’s lips pulled back.
“I said shut up.”
Frank’s voice trembled. “The search reports.”
Brian’s expression changed completely.
The officers behind Dana felt it too. Search reports meant police work. Police files. Warrants. Evidence. It meant whatever Brian had done inside Frank’s house was not disconnected from his badge. It was built on it.
Dana lowered her voice.
“Brian, listen to me. If you hurt Frank now, whatever you’re trying to hide becomes bigger than the file.”
Brian raised the grenade slightly higher.
“It’s already bigger.”
That was the first honest thing he said.
And it told Dana the situation was not about one dirty cop.
It was about everyone the file could expose.