She gestured toward the courthouse cameras.
"Every word you've said since entering this building has been recorded."
Grant looked up.
His eyes narrowed.
Olivia continued.
"And every officer in this building knows that you attempted to arrest a prosecutor who has evidence connecting you to a twenty-year-old disappearance."
Grant said nothing.
Then he slowly stepped backward.
"This isn't over."
Olivia nodded.
"No. It isn't."
He turned and walked away.
But before he reached the elevator, his phone rang again.
He answered.
Listened.
And suddenly stopped.
His face turned pale.
"What do you mean?"
A voice on the other end spoke urgently.
Grant looked toward Olivia one last time.
Then he said something she could barely hear.
"Porter is alive?"
He ended the call.
Olivia felt her pulse quicken.
Grant had just confirmed something important.
He knew James Porter was alive.
And he was afraid of what Porter might reveal.
At 5:30 p.m., Olivia, Walker, and Eleanor gathered in a secure room.
The judge had agreed to provide a sworn statement about the disappearance of her husband.
The cassette was being duplicated and preserved.
Sarah Miller had been moved to another protected location.
But the most important witness was still missing.
James Porter.
Olivia checked her phone.
An unknown number appeared.
She answered immediately.
"Porter?"
A man's voice responded.
"Ms. Bennett, I heard you found Daniel Whitmore's recording."
"Yes."
"Then you need to hear the rest of the story."
"Where are you?"
"At the old railway station."
"That's being watched."
"I know."
"James, we can arrange a secure meeting."
"No. There isn't enough time."
Olivia glanced at Walker.
"What happened?"
Porter took a deep breath.
"Michael Grant is preparing to leave the country tonight."
Olivia stood.
"How do you know?"
"Because I have the flight details."
"Where is he going?"
"Geneva."
"Who is traveling with him?"
There was a pause.
Then Porter answered.
"Robert Harlan."
Olivia looked at Walker.
"Do you have evidence?"
"Yes. But there's something else."
"What?"
Porter's voice became quieter.
"Victor Kane isn't the person financing Project Nightfall."
Olivia frowned.
"Then who is?"
"Someone much more powerful."
"Give me a name."
Porter hesitated.
Then he said:
"Senator Richard Caldwell."
Olivia felt the room become strangely quiet.
Richard Caldwell was one of the most influential politicians in the country. He had served on several national security committees and had publicly championed police reform.
He was also a close friend of Director Reynolds.
Porter continued.
"Twenty years ago, Caldwell was the person who arranged the original payments. Daniel Whitmore discovered the financial records. That's why he disappeared."
Olivia looked at Eleanor.
The judge's face had gone completely white.
"Are you certain?" Olivia asked.
"I have the original ledger."
"Where?"
"At the railway station."
"Stay there. We're coming."
Porter suddenly interrupted.
"Olivia, listen carefully. If I don't make it out of here, the evidence is hidden inside the station's old control room."
The call crackled.
Then Olivia heard a second voice.
A man shouting.
"He's here!"
Porter whispered.
"Don't trust the people wearing badges."
The call ended.
Olivia immediately grabbed her coat.
Walker was already moving toward the door.
"Let's go."
Eleanor stood.
"Wait."
She walked toward Olivia and handed her the old photograph of Daniel.
On the back, Olivia noticed something she hadn't seen before.
A small handwritten number.
417.
She looked up.
"Room 417."
Eleanor nodded.
"Daniel wrote that number shortly before he disappeared. I never understood what it meant."
Olivia looked at Walker.
The same room number appeared in Ethan Cole's notebook.
The same room where Sarah had recovered the first evidence.
There was no coincidence.
Everything was connected.
Olivia carefully placed the photograph in her pocket.
"Your Honor, I think we're finally going to find out what happened to your husband."
Eleanor nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.
"Bring the truth back."
At 5:52 p.m., the federal vehicles reached the railway station.
The building had been abandoned for nearly fifteen years.
Its windows were broken, its platforms were overgrown, and old advertisements peeled from the walls.
Walker led the team through the main entrance.
"James Porter!"
No answer.
They searched the waiting room.
Then the ticket office.
Finally, one agent discovered a trail of blood leading toward the old control room.
Olivia hurried forward.
The door was open.
Inside, a man was lying on the floor.
He was in his early fifties, with gray hair and a deep cut above his eyebrow.
Olivia recognized him immediately.
"James!"
Porter opened his eyes.
"You're late."
She knelt beside him.
"Who did this?"
He tried to smile.
"Someone who doesn't like unfinished business."
Walker called for medical assistance.
Olivia looked around the room.