Chapter 8 - The Wire
The front doors were violently kicked open by a team of heavily armed tactical police officers.
Red laser sights danced wildly across my chest as they screamed at me to put my hands in the air.
Nathan immediately dropped to his knees, raising his hands and playing the absolute perfect victim.
He frantically yelled to the officers that I had broken in and tried to assault his elderly mother.
Patricia burst into theatrical tears, clutching her chest as if she were having a panic attack.
The lead detective kept his weapon trained on me as he cautiously stepped forward.
I did not panic, I did not cry, and I did not beg for my life.
I slowly reached into the collar of my sweater with two fingers.
I pulled out a small, blinking black microphone taped directly over my collarbone.
I looked the detective directly in the eyes and told him to check his live encrypted radio feed.
Brooke’s underground nanny was actually a retired federal informant who had bugged me before I left the city.
Everything Patricia and Nathan had just confessed had been broadcast straight to a federal field office.
The detective's face shifted from aggressive suspicion to sudden realization.
He slowly lowered his weapon and turned his intense glare toward Nathan.
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Nathan’s fake mask of victimhood instantly melted into a vicious snarl.
He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a sleek black handgun.
