Rivera’s already moving to the computer terminal, pulling up something. "Let me see if I can find him on the camera feeds."
She types rapidly, pulling up camera feeds from different areas of the base. She scans parking lots, building entrances, and street views. Gwen watches, her eyes move across each screen with the same focused intensity she uses in the OR.
"There." Rivera points to a feed showing the hospital parking structure. "That matches the plate on his vehicle, level three. He parked minutes ago."
"He's inside the hospital," I say. "Why?"
Gwen's face goes pale. "My office. I brought copies of the hard documentation back yesterday to cross-reference against the seized evidence. If he destroys those?—"
"You have the originals secure?"
"Yes, at home. But he doesn't know they're copies. The handwritten notes, timestamps, chain of custody documentation all look original." She turns to Rivera. "Defense attorneys would have a field day if they thought we lost the evidence chain."
Rivera's expression shifts. "I thought you were giving me the originals. You said you had everything documented."
"I do. I made copies for you to work with." Gwen's voice stays level. "At the time, I didn't know who I could trust. I kept the originals at home after the first break-in. What's in my office are high-quality copies that would pass for originals unless someone ran forensic tests."
Rivera studies her for a beat, then nods. Understanding, not offense. She's already on her radio, calling for hospital security and base MPs. I'm moving toward the door, Sullivan falling in beside me without being asked.
"Gwen, your office, which floor?" I call back.
"Fifth. But Thatcher, let hospital security handle it. He might be armed?—"
"I'm counting on it." I glance at Sullivan. "Get the team. Full tactical loadout. This doesn't end until Briggs is in custody."
"On it."
Gwen catches up to me in the hallway. "I'm coming with you."
"No."
"My office, my evidence, my case."
"Your safety, my responsibility." I stop, face her fully. "Briggs knows you're the reason his operation fell apart. You think I'm letting you anywhere near him when he's desperate and potentially armed?"
Her jaw sets in that stubborn line I'm starting to recognize. "You can't lock me in this building."
"Watch me." I signal to the NCIS agent who'd been assigned to protect her earlier. "Agent Sacco. Dr. Abernathy stays here until Briggs is in custody. Use whatever means necessary."
Sacco nods. "Yes, sir."
Gwen's eyes flash. "Thatcher?—"
"Stay. Here." I soften my voice slightly. "Please. I can't do my job if I'm worried about you being in the line of fire."
She studies my face for a long moment, then exhales. "Fine. But I want updates. Regular updates."
"You'll have them." I touch her face briefly, aware of the audience but not caring. "I'll bring him in."
"I know you will."
The hospital is a short drive. Sullivan drives while I coordinate with base security and hospital administrators. By the time we arrive, they've locked down the fifth floor, initiated Code Silver protocols throughout the building, and security has eyes on the north stairwell where Briggs was last spotted. Patients are being moved away from the stairwells, staff sheltering in place with locked doors.
My earpiece crackles. I hear Gwen's voice, tense but controlled. "Thatcher, I'm watching the camera feeds from here. Briggs is on the fourth-floor landing, north stairwell. He's stopped moving."
"Why?"
"Looking at his phone. Might be getting instructions or checking something."
