Brian’s grip on Frank changed the moment he heard that.
It was small, but every officer in the room saw it. The arm across Frank’s chest tightened, then loosened, then tightened again. His plan had depended on finding the file inside the house. Maybe in a desk drawer. Maybe in a closet. Maybe in a safe. But Frank had just told him the one thing he did not want to hear.
The blue binder was not there.
“You’re lying,” Brian said.
Frank’s voice trembled. “No.”
“Where is it?”
Dana stepped in before Frank could answer.
“Brian, don’t.”
He turned the grenade slightly toward the floor, then lifted it again. “Where is it?”
Frank swallowed. “Somewhere you can’t get it.”
Brian’s face twisted.
Dana knew she had seconds before anger made the room worse.
“Frank,” she said calmly, “look at me.”
Frank’s eyes moved toward her.
“Don’t answer him.”
Brian laughed. “You think that helps him?”
“It helps you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Because if he says where it is and you still can’t reach it, you have nothing left to negotiate with.”
That stopped him.
Dana pressed carefully.
“Right now you have time. You have Frank alive. You have people outside who still want this to end without another line in the report. But if Frank gives you an answer you can’t use, you’ll panic.”
“I don’t panic.”
“You already did.”
The words hit hard.
Brian’s eyes sharpened.
Dana did not retreat.
“You panicked when he said 17 Birch. You panicked when I mentioned Morris. You panicked when Frank said the binder wasn’t here. That’s not weakness. That’s your body telling you the plan failed.”
Brian’s jaw worked.
For a moment, Dana thought he might raise the grenade higher again.
Instead, he spoke lower.
“You don’t know the plan.”
“Then tell me.”
He stared at her.
Outside, the command post was changing too. Lieutenant Han had ordered Captain Morris moved away from the live audio table. Morris objected. Han held firm. A deputy chief was en route. Internal Affairs was being notified. The body camera feed from inside the living room was now being duplicated to a secure server so no one at the scene could quietly bury it.
Morris saw those changes happening and understood what they meant.
He stepped away from the command table and made a phone call.
A patrol officer noticed.
That phone call would matter later.
Inside, Brian leaned closer to Frank.
“Where did you put it?”
Frank’s lips barely moved.
“My daughter has the copy.”
Brian froze.
Dana’s heart dropped.
Because if Frank’s daughter had the file, she might already be the next target.
And Brian was not the only officer who knew her name.