Chapter 6 - The Forensic Blitz
For the next forty-eight hours, Marcus’s apartment transformed into a tactical operations center. While Emma sat in the living room, eating pancakes and watching cartoons with Marcus’s wife, Eric stood over a secure laptop terminal, uploading the high-resolution photos of the backyard grave to a specialized FBI portal.
A special agent named Carter, based out of the Bureau's Philadelphia field office, appeared on the encrypted video screen. He was a sharp, unyielding man with deep circles under his eyes, the kind of professional who spent his life reviewing the worst crimes imaginable.
"Major McKenzie," Agent Carter said, studying the files on his screen. "The data you sent is... compelling. We ran the name Sarah Chun through the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children database. She was reported missing from a foster home in Schuylkill County in November of 2016. The case was closed a year later when a fraudulent document was submitted claiming she had been relocated to an out-of-state relative. The notary stamp on that relocation document belongs to a Brenda McKenzie."
Eric turned slowly to look at his wife, who was sitting in the corner of the room, her head buried in her lap. Brenda didn't deny it. She just wept silently. She had been complicit in the cover-up from the very beginning, bound by her mother's psychological chokehold.
"We have enough for a federal search warrant for the Savage property, Major," Agent Carter continued. "But we have a problem. Our field office in Allentown just reported that a private demolition permit was filed for the Savage farmhouse this morning. They’re bringing in heavy machinery to excavate the entire backyard under the guise of installing a commercial swimming pool. They’re trying to destroy the evidence before our team can get on-site."
"How long until your warrant is cleared by a federal magistrate?" Eric asked, his military instincts kicking in.
"Twelve hours. Maybe sixteen," Carter sighed. "The bureaucracy is moving as fast as it can, but the local judges in that county are being uncooperative. Someone is pulling favors to delay the signature."
Eric looked through the glass window at Emma, who was laughing at a cartoon, her face finally gaining a little bit of the innocent color she had lost in that hole. He knew that if that evidence was destroyed, Myrtle Savage would go free, and his daughter would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, waiting for the shadows to come back.
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"Marcus," Eric said, turning to his team leader. "How fast can we get the tactical vehicle loaded?"
Marcus smiled, a hard, dangerous expression that had once terrified insurgent leaders across the Helmand Province. "The truck’s already running, Eric. We’ve got four guys from the platoon waiting at the gas station down the road. If the feds need twelve hours, we’ll give them twelve hours of absolute gridlock."
