Chapter 29: Aftermath

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Aftermath

Chapter 29: Aftermath

Clarice Starling gritted her teeth as she helped the supposedly injured Axel Vance into the passenger seat outside the abandoned record factory. Axel slumped against the seat with an exhausted expression, waited until Clarice shut the door, then slowly reached for the police radio mounted inside the car. "Dispatch, this is Officer Vance at the abandoned record factory on the west side. I need backup, and send more people than you think I need."

The radio remained silent for two seconds before a confused dispatcher answered. "Officer Vance, define more people. What happened out there?" Axel glanced toward the factory entrance and calmly replied, "There are a lot of bodies inside."

"How many?"

Axel thought about the black-robed cultists covering the factory floor. "Dozens." He paused before adding, "And tell whoever handles major crime-scene cleanup that they’re going to have a very bad night."

The dispatcher stopped responding for several seconds.

It did not take long for sirens to begin approaching from every direction. More than a dozen police vehicles arrived first, followed by crime-scene personnel, medical staff, and officers carrying enough equipment to secure the entire industrial block. The abandoned factory was quickly surrounded while everyone outside tried to understand how a two-person investigation had turned into something resembling the aftermath of a small war.

A young officer fresh out of the academy rushed through the entrance ahead of the others. He made it only several yards before seeing the bodies, spent ammunition, blood-covered machinery, and scattered remains of the tall regenerating cultist. His healthy complexion vanished almost instantly, and he grabbed the doorframe before bending over and dry-heaving.

"My God..." the rookie managed between breaths. "What happened in there?"

Several veteran officers followed him and reacted only slightly better. Most had seen shootings, traffic fatalities, and murder scenes before, but the record factory was something different entirely. Even experienced men stopped talking once they saw the dozens of black-robed bodies spread across the floor.

One officer eventually walked back outside and approached the car. He looked at Axel through the open passenger window with an expression containing equal parts disbelief and suspicion. "Vance, did you and the FBI trainee do all this?"

Axel weakly nodded. "Mostly."

The officer exhaled. "Then I’m sorry, but you know how this works. With this many dead, both of you are coming back for formal statements and review." Axel had expected exactly that, but Clarice immediately stepped between them before the officer could continue.

"They attacked us first," Clarice said firmly. "We were surrounded, the exits were blocked, and they launched a coordinated lethal assault. Everything we did was in self-defense."

The officer raised both hands. "I’m not accusing either of you. I’m saying the paperwork alone is going to require a small forest."

A booming voice suddenly came from behind him. "Then plant more trees."

Everyone turned.

Chief Woody pushed through the officers blocking the path and strode toward the factory entrance. He took one long look inside, studied the piles of bodies, then spent several seconds staring at the scattered pieces that had once belonged to the regenerating cultist. Instead of looking horrified, the corner of his mouth rose slightly.

"Well," Woody said, "this one is definitely above my normal headache level. The governor’s office is going to hear about this before breakfast."

Clarice stepped toward him. "Chief, we acted lawfully."

Woody looked her up and down with an amused expression. "Agent Starling, you should worry less about jail and more about how many times you’re going to have to repeat the same statement." He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing as crime-scene personnel moved around him.

"With this many casualties, there’ll be evidence reconstruction, ballistic work, medical examinations, internal reviews, federal reviews, and probably hearings where people ask the same question fifteen different ways." Woody glanced toward Clarice. "The Bureau is going to keep you busy enough to make Quantico feel like a vacation."

Clarice swallowed. "So we’re under investigation?"

"Of course you are."

Her expression tightened.

Then Woody started laughing.

The sound was loud enough to make several nearby officers turn around.

Clarice stared at him.

Woody finally waved one hand. "Relax. I wanted to see how long it took you to panic."

"That wasn’t funny."

"It was a little funny."

Woody’s expression became more serious as he continued. "If the evidence confirms what you two reported, meaning these people were members of a violent organization that trapped you inside and attacked first, then you’re not suspects. You’re surviving law-enforcement personnel who stopped a massacre from getting worse."

He glanced back toward the factory. "The supernatural details are another matter. Those will be handled quietly until somebody figures out what the hell they mean."

Clarice finally relaxed slightly.

Woody walked to Axel’s door and slapped him on the shoulder.

Axel barely moved, but he immediately forced out a pained groan. "Chief... easy. I think my ribs are cracked."

Woody narrowed his eyes at him.

Axel gave his best exhausted expression.

"Stop acting like you’re dying," Woody muttered, though the next pat was noticeably gentler. "You look healthy enough to wrestle a bull."

He leaned closer so only Axel could hear clearly. "Hoffman picked up several businessmen connected to the Dolphin shareholders. Once we compare what they say with whatever you found here, we should finally get closer to whoever is actually running this operation."

Axel’s attention sharpened. "They’re talking?"

"Some will."

The way Woody said it made Axel decide not to ask what methods Mark Hoffman was using.

Woody straightened and pointed toward the ambulance area. "Leave the rest to us. You’re going to a hospital, and for once in your life you’re going to stay somewhere without shooting anybody."

The next several days became Axel’s first real break since arriving in this world. He was admitted to a hospital that regularly worked with the Miami Police Department, where physicians repeatedly examined him and became increasingly confused because they could find almost nothing wrong. The muscle damage and soreness from the factory battle had already disappeared after his system reward, leaving no evidence consistent with the beating Axel claimed to have taken.

The doctors wanted to discharge him almost immediately. Woody refused and insisted Axel remain under observation, partly because the department wanted a clean medical record documenting that he had been involved in a violent attack. Keeping him in the hospital also conveniently removed him from reporters and anyone else trying to understand what happened at the factory.

Woody even assigned an officer to guard him.

When Axel saw who entered the room on the first morning, he started laughing.

"Steve?"

Steve Woody stood in the doorway carrying a stack of magazines and wearing an expression of open admiration. "Officer Vance, I begged the Chief for this assignment."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "You begged your father to sit outside a hospital room?"

Steve immediately corrected him. "At work, he’s the Chief."

"You really are his son."

Steve pulled a chair beside the bed. "I wanted to ask you for a favor. Teach me how to become a good cop."

Axel stared at him for several seconds. "Steve, I’ve barely been a police officer myself."

"That doesn’t matter."

Steve leaned forward excitedly. "Everybody at the station is talking about you. The story is that you and the beautiful FBI agent stormed a cult headquarters, got surrounded, and you personally defeated hundreds of armed lunatics."

Axel slowly sat upright.

"Hundreds?"

Steve nodded enthusiastically. "Somebody said three hundred."

Axel rubbed his forehead.

The battle had happened less than a day earlier, and departmental gossip had already multiplied the number of enemies several times over. At this rate, by next week people would probably claim he had fought an army with one bullet and a pocketknife.

Axel decided correcting the rumor was hopeless.

During the next few days, he finally understood why Woody constantly described Steve as useless in the field. The younger officer was friendly, enthusiastic, and surprisingly knowledgeable about comics, movies, and video games, but his attention vanished the moment the conversation involved reports, evidence procedure, or administrative work. Whenever Axel tried explaining that police work involved far more paperwork than gunfights, Steve’s eyes practically glazed over.

In Steve’s imagination, being a police officer meant driving a patrol car through Miami, kicking down doors, and drawing a weapon whenever criminals appeared. He considered incident reports, chain-of-custody forms, and witness interviews unfortunate obstacles standing between him and the exciting parts. Axel found the attitude ridiculous, but Steve remained entertaining company.

Much of their hospital time ended up being spent arguing about comic-book characters and video games. Steve could talk for an hour about which hero would win in a fight, then completely forget a five-minute explanation about evidence preservation. Axel could only shake his head and wonder how someone raised by Chief Woody had somehow become this harmless.

Axel repeatedly asked Steve for information about the investigation outside. Unfortunately, Woody apparently kept his son far away from anything sensitive, so Steve knew almost nothing beyond rumors. Even Clarice became unreachable because the FBI had temporarily pulled her into its own internal review after the factory shooting.

That left Axel trapped in a hospital bed with very little to do.

By the fourth day, he was beginning to feel as though he might actually grow roots into the mattress.

Eventually the department allowed him to leave.

Axel returned to the Miami Police Department expecting another interrogation or meeting with Woody. Instead, Steve guided him toward a conference room and explained that someone else had arrived first.

A sharply dressed man was waiting inside.

He wore an expensive suit, his dark hair was slicked neatly back, and his relaxed smile seemed almost too perfect for a lawyer about to discuss dozens of deaths. The man stood as Axel entered and extended one hand.

"Officer Vance, good to finally meet you."

Axel shook it.

"I’m Kevin Lomax, your attorney."

The name briefly caught Axel’s attention, but he kept his expression neutral.

Kevin gestured toward the chair across from him. Once Axel sat down, the attorney opened a polished briefcase and removed several carefully organized folders. "These contain the reports gathered over the last few days, along with your statement, Agent Starling’s account, witness interviews, preliminary forensic findings, and background information on the people killed at the factory."

Axel accepted the documents and began reading.

The first pages contained identities of the dead cultists.

Most were surprisingly ordinary.

Plumbers.

Day laborers.

Homeless men.

Unemployed workers.

Socially isolated teenagers and young adults.

Several had histories of being bullied, abused, abandoned, or pushed to the edges of society long before joining the organization. Axel gradually understood why the cult had found recruitment easy among people who felt ignored by everyone else.

"They targeted vulnerable people," Axel muttered.

Kevin nodded. "That appears to be one pattern."

Axel continued through the file until he reached his own statement.

The language was remarkably clean.

According to the official reconstruction, Axel and Clarice had entered the factory while following legitimate evidence connected to an active federal investigation. They discovered violent cult members, were surrounded, had their escape routes blocked, and used force only after the group initiated a deadly assault.

Every major detail matched what had actually happened.

More importantly, nothing in the report made Axel or Clarice look like reckless vigilantes.

Axel looked toward Kevin. "Who wrote this?"

Kevin smiled. "People who understand how to describe facts accurately."

That answer told Axel absolutely nothing.

He returned to the documents and finished reading before closing the folder. "I don’t have anything to add."

Kevin calmly collected the paperwork and placed it back inside his briefcase. "Good. Then my immediate job is finished."

Axel stood.

Kevin remained seated for another moment before looking up at him with the same flawless smile.

"There is one more thing."

Axel waited.

"Chief Woody wants to speak with you privately."

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