Francis took a deep breath. The air tasted like smoke and fumes.
Below, the river looked like lead; from sixty feet up, it might as well have been concrete.
He didn't care. There was no 'tomorrow' in his plans.
'Finally…' he let out an exhausted sigh as he turned his attention to the bridge.
Blue and red lights strobed across his face, painting him in the colors of the law that had failed him.
"Statement?" He spread his arms wide, a broken man against the sunset.
"You want a statement? Fine. Put it on the news."
The police line tightened. A dozen Glock 17s aimed at his chest.
Behind them stood reporters with long lenses and phones held high.
Passing cars crawled to a halt, the drivers eager to witness the unfolding scene.
The whole nation was watching. Exactly as he wanted.
"Detective Morrison, look at me!" he demanded.
The person in question stepped forward, unable to hide the tension in his face.
"Please, step back. We can talk this through."
"Talk? Like we talked six years ago?" Francis sneered, contempt dripping from every word.
"When you told me the Senator's son was just a kid who made a mistake ? When you told me to take the settlement, bury my girls, and move on?"
"It was a legal matter, my—"
"Ninety miles per hour," Francis snapped, his voice cracking like gunfire. "Through my fence. Into my garden, while I was away serving our country that didn't give a damn about me."
Every word he uttered carried resentment that he endured for years. But he wasn't done yet.
"My girls were too young. They were all I had left of my late wife… and those bastards took them from me while they were wasted and high on drugs!"
Morrison clenched his fist. "It was an accident."
"It might have been an accident, but what they all did after… that's what drove me to this point,"
"The tox report was tampered. The judge called it 'unfortunate.' One year of house arrest for two innocent lives?" Francis let out a hollow laugh.
"And what did those bastards' parents do when I refused to back down? They sent me to die on the front line."
He threw his head back, laughing maniacally, fingers digging into his forehead.
"It's fine. I've already evened the score with them."
"Francis, don't—"
"The Senator? I bled him in his own bathtub. The Judge? He's in my basement, or what's left of him. That damn prosecutor is fish food in the bottom of the sea."
Francis's laughter intensified.
"Check the cloud drive I just leaked. Every scream. Every torture. It's all there. I made sure to make them suffer slowly."
Out of nowhere, everyone's phones started buzzing.
The reporters were looking at their screens. The confession was already viral.
It was a video of him admitting to killing several politicians and high-ranking officials, along with evidence of their corruption and wrongdoing.
Some were even shown engaging in illicit acts that were cruel and inhumane.
He also admitted to one of the most high-profile massacres, where a group of wealthy and influential individuals on a vacation island were murdered.
Along with all that came his own confidential record.
Francis Hall. Former Tier-1 Operator. The man the government sent when they wanted a problem to stop breathing.
The revelation struck like a bomb. A patriot who should have been hailed a hero was driven to become a vigilante, forced by circumstances.
It made reporters, viewers, and even officers question who the real villain was.
"But I saved the best for you, Detective."
Francis pulled a burner phone from his pocket and tossed it.
It skidded across the asphalt, stopping at Morrison's boots.
Ring ring ring
Morrison answered. His hand trembled as he listened, and his eyes widened—reflecting a horror deeper than the river below.
"W…What did you do?" He swallowed hard.
"My associate is outside your house. Your wife. Your twins. They're fine. For now."
"You monster," Morrison choked out.
"The corrupted justice system made me one." Francis's voice dropped.
"Your life for theirs. One bullet to the head. Right now. Or they burn. Choose."
The radio chatter went nuclear. Officers looked at each other, paralyzed.
Morrison's service weapon felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"The clock is ticking, Detective. Is your life more important than your family?"
"I…" His grip tightened on the pistol.
A couple of officers grabbed his arms, speaking rapidly, trying to calm him down.
"So this is it? You're going to say you were stopped, and that's why they died? You're useless. If it were my kids, I would have thrown away everything to save them."
Francis hand trembled over the railings.
In reality, he never intended to kill Morrison's family; he just wanted him to feel the same pain, even if only for a moment.
BANG!
A bullet tore through Francis's head, sending him plunging into the river below.
"NO!!!" Morrison dropped to his knees, screaming into the wind.