The emergency alert screams across every screen in the Seattle FBI field office as Marcus Kane watches his career implode in real time.
"FUGITIVE ALERT: Dr. Elena Vasquez, wanted for murder and terrorism. Detective Marcus Kane considered armed and extremely dangerous. Shoot on sight authorization granted."
His partner Detective Morrison stares at the bulletin, her face a mask of disbelief. "Jesus Christ, Marcus. Terrorism?"
Marcus doesn't answer. He's too busy watching the security footage from the Blackwood Institute that somehow wasn't available twelve hours ago. The timestamp shows Elena entering the building Friday night but now there's additional footage showing her leaving Saturday morning, carrying a metal briefcase.
Footage that didn't exist when he first investigated the scene.
"They're manufacturing evidence," he mutters.
"Who's manufacturing evidence?" Morrison's voice carries the weight of fifteen years of partnership. "Marcus, talk to me. What the hell is going on?"
Before Marcus can answer, his phone buzzes with a text from Elena: Pier 70, Warehouse 12. They're coming for both of us now. Trust no one at the department.
Morrison's radio crackles: "All units, Detective Kane's vehicle spotted heading toward the waterfront. Consider him compromised and extremely dangerous."
Marcus looks at his partner the woman who stood by him through his divorce, his father's death, every dark case that threatened to break him. The woman he's trusted with his life countless times.
"Lisa," he says quietly, "I need you to forget you saw that message."
Morrison's hand moves toward her weapon. "Marcus, you're scaring me."
"Elena didn't kill Blackwood. Someone used experimental technology to steal her memories and frame her for murder. And now they're using the same technology on a massive scale."
"That's insane."
"Three days ago, I would have agreed with you." Marcus slowly reaches for his badge and weapon, placing them on Morrison's desk. "But Elena showed me proof. Someone is systematically extracting memories from government scientists, military personnel, anyone with classified knowledge."
Morrison's eyes widen. "The memory protocol."
Marcus freezes. "What did you say?"
"The memory protocol. It came through classified channels last month. New interrogation technique for high-value prisoners." Morrison's face goes pale. "Oh God, Marcus. They briefed us on it. Said it was still theoretical."
"It's not theoretical. It's operational. And Elena helped design it."
Morrison stares at him for a long moment, then makes a decision that will change both their lives forever. She slides Marcus's badge and weapon back across the desk.
"Warehouse 12. How long do we have?"
"We?"
"You think I'm letting you handle a government conspiracy alone? I've seen how you make coffee."