Damon's POV
The small farm Miguel had identified sat on the outskirts of town, isolated except for a single house about two hundred meters away. A narrow dirt path connected to the highway—likely the route the college student used when he spotted suspicious activity. We parked at a safe distance but could still observe Connor entering the house. Within minutes, our team had surrounded the property and subdued the guards outside.
When I pushed open the unlocked door, Connor and Claire stood in the living room, mid-argument.
"Claire, what the hell have you done?" Connor was shouting as we entered.
"Both of you, hands up! Move slowly toward the wall," I commanded, my voice echoing through the sparse room.
Connor turned with a scowl. "What is this nonsense? Who are you people?"
Before he could react further, two officers moved in from behind, restraining both him and Claire. I noticed her lips curling into a cold, knowing smile.
