The hospital no longer felt like a place of healing.
It felt like a war zone.
Security had doubled.
Police officers stood at every entrance, every corridor, every blind corner. Eyes alert. Hands ready.
Something was wrong.
And everyone could feel it.
Inside a secured conference room on the second floor, tension stretched tight.
A digital map of Valenridge glowed on the wall.
Multiple red signals blinked.
Moving.
Shifting.
Disappearing.
Reappearing.
An officer adjusted the system. "We finally cracked part of the encrypted traffic. It's not direct communication—it's relay-based."
The lead investigator frowned. "Explain."
"He's not staying in one place long enough to be traced. He moves, drops signals, then redirects through secondary devices."
Another officer stepped in. "But he slipped."
Silence.
All eyes turned.
The officer zoomed into a location.
An industrial zone.
Quiet.
Isolated.
