Episode 4: Escaping Justice

It was supposed to be the honeymoon of a lifetime.

Marcus "Mack" Alexander leaned back on the porch of the small beachfront cottage, his arm around Camille, enjoying the warm Gulf breeze. The turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico stretched before them, the sound of waves crashing softly against the shore. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed this break until he was finally here. For once, there was no case to chase, no criminals to track, no danger lurking at every turn. Just Camille—his new wife—and the peaceful solitude that came with a week away from the world.

"I could get used to this," Camille said, her voice filled with contentment as she sipped her iced tea.

Mack smiled, kissing her forehead. "Same here. But, you know how it is. When you’ve spent most of your life in the game, it’s hard to step away completely."

Camille chuckled softly. "I know. But at least we get to take a break for a little while, right?"

For a moment, Mack allowed himself to fully relax, letting the silence settle around them. He never thought he'd be able to pull himself away from work, but Camille had a way of grounding him, of making him feel like he didn’t always have to be on alert. But deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time before his phone rang with a new case.

And sure enough, a week later, just as they were starting to think about heading home, the phone call came.

---

Mack glanced at his phone and sighed. "Looks like our honeymoon’s over."

Camille raised an eyebrow. "That was fast. What’s going on?"

"It’s Tasha," Mack replied, frowning. "There’s a case in Mobile. An escaped convict. And knowing Tasha, she’s already in full investigative mode. She’s probably waiting for me to get there."

Within hours, the honeymoon turned into a distant memory as Mack and Camille packed their things and drove to Mobile, Alabama. The warm coastal air of Gulfport seemed to fade behind them as they hit the road.

By the time they arrived at the local police station, Tasha was waiting for them, her expression serious.

"Glad you could join us," Tasha said, handing Mack a file. "The convict’s name is Caleb Knight. He’s not your average escapee. This guy is dangerous. He’s been linked to a string of high-profile robberies, and now he’s on the run, probably with a few associates. We need to find him before he hurts anyone else."

Mack scanned the file. "Why Mobile? What’s he doing here?"

Tasha pulled a map from her bag and spread it across the table. "We think he was heading toward the docks. Mobile’s a big port city, and there are plenty of ways to disappear here. He’s probably got a plan in place—maybe smuggling himself out of the country, or worse."

Mack’s jaw tightened. "We can’t let that happen."

Tasha nodded. "We’ve already got some leads. The local cops are tracking down sightings, but we need to move quickly. Knight’s been out for two days now, and we know he’s desperate."

---

The trio spent the next few hours canvassing the area near the docks, questioning locals and trying to get a lead on Knight’s whereabouts. Mobile, with its historic charm and maze of narrow streets, was a perfect place for someone to slip through the cracks.

As the day wore on, Mack began to feel the weight of the case settle on his shoulders. This wasn’t just about tracking down a convict; it was about stopping a dangerous man before he could do more damage. He knew the clock was ticking.

"Anything?" Mack asked, approaching Tasha who was talking to a shop owner.

"Nothing yet," Tasha said, frustration evident in her voice. "People saw him, but no one’s willing to say much. It’s like they’re scared."

"Let’s go check the docks," Mack suggested. "If he’s here, he’s got to be looking to get on a boat."

---

The docks were busy with longshoremen unloading crates and ships coming in from overseas. The smell of saltwater filled the air, mixing with the diesel fuel and the sounds of the busy port. It was the perfect place for someone to hide in plain sight.

Mack and Tasha moved through the crowds, their eyes scanning every person they passed. Camille stayed close, watching their backs, but Mack could tell she wasn’t thrilled to be back on the job so soon after their wedding.

"Mack," Tasha said, her voice low. "I think I’ve got something."

Mack turned to her, his heart racing. "What is it?"

"Over by those warehouses," she pointed, "there’s a guy acting suspicious. He’s been hanging around the area all day, and he’s trying to avoid us."

Mack’s instincts kicked in. He nodded. "Let’s move. Camille, stay close."

They approached the warehouse, making their way past stacked containers and shipping crates. The man Tasha had pointed out was walking toward a side entrance, but when he saw them coming, he broke into a sprint.

"Get him!" Mack shouted.

The chase was on. Mack was faster, but the man had a head start. He darted between the crates and containers, trying to lose them in the maze of the docks. Mack’s military training kicked in, and within moments, he had closed the distance, grabbing the man by the arm and slamming him against a crate.

"Where is Caleb Knight?" Mack demanded, his grip tightening.

The man gasped for air, fear flashing in his eyes. "I don’t know! I swear! He’s not here! I was just—"

"Stop lying," Tasha interjected, stepping forward. "We know you’re working with him. Where is he?"

The man hesitated for a moment before his eyes darted toward the far end of the dock. "He’s there. He’s been hiding out in a shipping container. But you won’t make it in time. He’s got a boat waiting."

Mack didn’t wait another second. He motioned for Tasha and Camille to follow as they sprinted toward the container. They arrived just in time to see a man slip inside the door, the faint sound of an engine starting up in the distance.

"That’s him!" Tasha shouted.

Mack was already in motion. He reached the container, pulling open the rusted door. Inside, Caleb Knight was standing near a small boat, preparing to escape.

"Knight!" Mack shouted. "It’s over. Drop the gun."

The convict smirked, a cold, dangerous glint in his eyes. "You think you’ve won? You’re too late."

Without warning, he raised the gun, and a shot rang out. Mack ducked instinctively, but the bullet grazed his arm. Tasha fired back, hitting Knight in the shoulder. He crumpled to the ground, the gun falling from his hand.

Within moments, the authorities arrived, taking Knight into custody. His escape had been short-lived, and his plans had been foiled.

As the adrenaline wore off, Mack took a breath and looked at Camille, who had been standing at a distance, her face pale but relieved.

"Are you okay?" he asked, walking toward her.

She nodded, but there was a hint of frustration in her eyes. "I thought we were done with all this, Mack. I thought we had more time."

Mack smiled softly, wiping the blood from his arm. "There’s never enough time. But we’ll get it. One case at a time."

And as they headed back to the hotel, the promise of a peaceful life seemed just a little closer—though Mack knew, deep down, that it would always be just out of reach.