Washington, DC, Marsh Residence, 2019

Something woke Stanley Marsh up that morning.

He sat up in his bed, trying to listen beyond the morning birdcalls outside his open window. Everything seemed as normal, except he couldn't shake this odd wariness.

Standing in his boxers, he walked over to the window. It was still relatively early; the front garden and the street outside were quiet. He stood and intently listened again.

He'd long ago come to trust this sixth sense he had for danger. His intuition had kept him alive as a federal officer over the years. He trusted it more than he trusted most of the people in his life.

Just as he was turning from the window, he spotted the blue roof of a strange car hidden behind his neighbor's thick hedge.

A floorboard creaked.

Stanley's reaction was instant. He dashed behind the bedroom door as it burst open.

A man stormed into the bedroom brandishing a gun. Feathers flew as three bullets past through the mattress of Stanley's king-sized bed.

The deputy director's trained eyes recognized the silencer on the end of the handgun and his stomach dropped.

This is an assassination attempt.

Before the man realized where his target was, Stanley threw a shoulder into the door, slamming the intruder backward.

As the gunman wheeled around to shoot, Stanley dove for his legs. The gun went off again; the bullet whistling past and clipping Stanley's ear, just as he took the gunman's legs out from under him. The intruder fell like a tree to the floor, hitting his head against the wall on the way down.

Quickly, Stanley jumped to his feet and drove a foot into the gunman's groin before taking off down the hall. Half-naked, he flew down the wide staircase of his house. In the back of his mind he already knew Marsden had put out this hit on him.

As he reached the entrance hall, a second gunman appeared through the front door. Unarmed, Stanley had little choice but to flee down a side hall, leading to the home's expansive kitchen and the back door. A few more bullets scattered the plaster from the walls.

He burst out into the morning sunlight, running full tilt toward his garage and the safety of his car. But, as he cornered the side of the house, he smacked hard into a third gunman.

Shit! How many are there?

This man was twice the size of Stanley. His body pressed the deputy director down into the pavement as they both fell; and he collapsed on top of Stanley, his weapon sliding away on impact.

Stanley could hear the voices of the other two gunmen approaching.

Filled with rage, he struggled with the man above him. But to no avail. He was totally pinned.

Once all three murderers had gathered, the giant stood, pulling Stanley up with him.

"Okay…" the first gunman said, looking pissed and pained from the boot to his groin. "Where do you want to do this?"

Fear pumped a regular rhythm through Stanley's body.

So this is how it ends?

"Garage," shooter number two nonchalantly replied.

Stanley began to scream and beg as they dragged him kicking wildly, backward toward his fate. The giant's hand cupped his mouth to muffle his pleas.

Once they were hidden inside Stanley Marsh's double garage, all anybody would have heard; should they have chosen that moment to walk past; was the faint balloon-like pop of a gun equipped with a silencer.

…

Oakdale, Illinois, George S. Patton Army Base, 2019

Hidden deep within the original case files, should anybody bother to look for it, was a reference made regarding Snyder and Mayer's explanation for the gunpower residue on their hands and their fingerprints all over the murder weapons. According to them, they'd been firing weapons in a practice shooting range on the base shortly before the murders.

However, Agent Stanley Marsh, who headed the investigation, asserted that this shooting range didn't exist; accompanying this contention with two statements by resident US Army Captains, corroborating this fact.

After his short meeting with Snyder, Adrian drove with Archie to Oakdale. Both men worked through the sudden turn-a-round in their focus. Yesterday they were chasing two convicted felons and today they were trying to free them.

Although Adrian was now more than sure Snyder and Mayer were innocent as he suspected, the existence of the shooting range was the final puzzle piece he needed to secure for himself.

He was still unable to believe he'd unearthed such a deep level of corruption within an organization he'd always held to such high standard. He was both afraid and angered by this revelation. The FBI were supposed to be the good guys! But if all this was true, then this very same company had put two young men through hell.

He could understand why Snyder was so reluctant to trust him.

Archie's cell rang and the police chief spent some time in deep discussions with the person on the other end of the line.

Eventually, he hung up and looked over at Adrian. "Had a reporter friend of mine look a little deeper into Marsh…"

"And?"

"From 2001 to 2004, your deputy director ran an investigation into suspected illegal arms deals in the Middle East. Seems the FBI was providing resources to him to uncover the operation. But then…"

"Then?"

"…then nothing." Archie flicked his fingers. "The case just dried up and disappeared off the radar."

Archie waited while Adrian signed them in at the main security gate to the Patton Army Base and drove the car in the direction of the Robert Taft Building.

"You still with me?" Archie asked, after Adrian remained silent.

"Hmm?" Adrian blinked, pulling into an empty parking space. "Yip. Just getting the headache of my life!"

"I hear ya!" Archie agreed.

Adrian leaned forward against the Ford's steering wheel. "So basically, if we look at this from a 'they are innocent' point of view; we can surmise that Marsh discovered Marsden's involvement in these arms deals as far back as early 2000. What Marsden's motive is in all of this still remains unclear. But Marsden somehow brings Marsh in on the deal; perhaps for cash or privilege. Again, we don't know enough about that yet."

"Yes," Archie replied as he stepped out the vehicle. "And then all is well until 2008, when Colonel Winston Mayer works this all out and our boys take the fall for Marsh and Marsden's cover up."

Adrian sighed as they approached the large glass entrance to the Taft Building. "Just keeps getting better and better…"

After explaining their presence at reception, they were escorted down a few maze-like corridors to where the mass shooting took place. There wasn't much to see except a busy scientific experiment in operation; but this wasn't what Adrian had come for.

Using what Snyder told him, he tried to retrace their steps to where the supposed shooting range should have been.

Again, just like all the other evidence, the room revealed itself quickly to the person who was actually taking the time to look for it.

One corridor was different from the rest; with one long section of wall where a door should have been. On a hunch, Williams pressed his ear to the wall, walking slowing up the corridor; tapping as he went.

"Bingo!" he yelled and stepped back for Archie to listen to the hollow sound of an entrance.

Turning to the surprised supervisor who was accompanying them, Adrian requested a claw hammer be brought immediately to him.

Two hours later, he'd broken through to the bricked up shooting range; possibly in the exact state it was in shortly after Snyder and Mayer used it in 2008, at the behest of Senator Charles Marsden.

Seven hours and one flight later, they found themselves in an exclusive neighborhood in Northwest Washington, D.C., standing over the body of Deputy Director Stanley Marsh. He lay in a pool of blood from one neat gunshot to the head.