Chapter 7 - The Enemy Within
A shot cracked through the penthouse, but it didn't come from Carl’s gun.
The heavy glass window behind Carl shattered into a million glittering pieces as a tactical breach team from the FBI, having ascended via the exterior maintenance scaffolding, threw flashbangs into the room. The blinding light and deafening roar sent Carl crashing to the floor, his weapon spinning out of his reach.
Within seconds, the room was filled with federal agents in tactical gear. Carl Dempsey was pinned to the marble, his hands zip-tied behind his back, his face pressed into the glass shards of the window he had planned to throw Nathan from.
Nathan didn't look at Carl as they dragged him away. He turned immediately toward the guest bedroom.
Jonah was standing in the doorway, the fleece blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his large eyes wide with fear as he watched the armed agents clear the penthouse. He was shaking again, the old street instincts telling him to run, to hide, to disappear before the adults in uniforms noticed him.
Nathan walked over and knelt in front of the boy, completely ignoring the federal agents who were trying to secure his statement.
"It’s over, Jonah," Nathan said softly, gently taking the boy’s hand. "They can't hurt you anymore. They can't hurt anyone anymore."
Jonah looked at the shattered living room, then down at Nathan’s shoes—now ruined, covered in concrete dust and glass. He looked up into Nathan’s face, seeing the raw, honest grief that matched his own.
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"Did we save her picture?" Jonah whispered.
Nathan choked back a sob, pulling the small boy into a tight, fierce embrace. "Yeah, buddy. We saved her picture. We saved everything."
