Chapter 8 - The Federal Sting
Julian wept hysterically on the floor, begging our father not to hand him over to the cartel.
My father adjusted his expensive suit jacket and did not even look down at his bleeding son.
"You are a liability, Julian, and I refuse to lose my lifestyle because of your stupidity," my father stated.
The cartel gunmen grabbed Julian by his arms and began dragging him toward the broken windows.
My father turned his cold, dead eyes toward me.
"Now, Maya, hand over the recorder and we can pretend this entire ugly night never happened."
I gripped the digital recorder tightly, staring at the monster who had raised me.
"You are going to prison for the rest of your miserable life," I promised him.
My father laughed arrogantly and pulled a second weapon from his ankle holster.
"Who is going to arrest me?" he mocked. "The local police belong to me."
"He is absolutely right about the local police," a booming voice echoed from the dark ceiling of the garage.
My father froze, looking up toward the rusted steel catwalks above us.
Arthur, the lawyer, stepped out of the shadows holding a heavy tactical rifle.
He was not wearing his expensive suit anymore, but a Kevlar vest with bold yellow letters.
The letters spelled out F.B.I.
"Arthur Vance, Federal Bureau of Investigation, undercover financial division," Arthur announced proudly.
Dozens of heavily armed federal agents suddenly rappelled through the skylights and smashed through the doors.
The cartel gunmen dropped Julian and immediately raised their hands in surrender.
My father dropped his weapon, his arrogant face draining of all color as the federal agents swarmed him.
Arthur climbed down the metal stairs and walked directly over to me.
"I told you Ethan had secrets," Arthur smiled gently.
He explained that Ethan was an elite forensic accountant secretly helping the FBI build a massive RICO case against the cartel.
My parents and Julian had accidentally stumbled into the biggest federal sting operation in the state.
I watched with immense satisfaction as cold steel handcuffs were securely locked onto my father's wrists.
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The nightmare was finally falling apart, but I noticed something terrifying in the corner of the room.
My mother had quietly slipped out the back door during the chaotic raid, and she had taken my rental car keys.
