Now we can get to the truth. What are you really doing in Oakidge Heights King? Running ops? Using your family as cover? Isaiah didn't respond to Grayson at all.
Instead, he looked at his son. You okay? Jaylen nodded, his composure intact despite the circumstances. Isaiah turned back to Grayson, placing a folder on the table between them. Inside were legal documents, surveillance footage of the illegal raid, and military credentials that dwarfed anything Grayson had managed to access.
"Officer Grayson," Isaiah said calmly. "You are currently holding a minor against his will, having abducted him from school property while impersonating a police officer. These are federal crimes," Grayson's confidence wavered. I'm investigating a potential national security threat. No.
Isaiah corrected him. You're persecuting a family because your ego can't accept being wrong. And now you've crossed lines that can't be uncrossed. Behind the scenes, Grayson's superiors were being flooded with calls, not just from local officials and angry parents, but from military brass, congressional offices, and intelligence agencies. Do you realize who you're dealing with?
One caller demanded of Chief Williams. Do you have any idea what King has done for this country? As two uniformed officers entered to remove Grayson, he made one last desperate accusation. He's a ghost operative running some kind of deep cover mission right here in our town. The officers exchanged glances, embarrassed by their former colleagues breakdown.
They led him away, his protests echoing down the hallway. Isaiah helped Jallen to his feet, checking the marks on his wrist from the handcuffs. Let's go home. As they walked through the station, officers and staff stepped aside respectfully. Outside, the crowd of protesters cheered as Jallen emerged.
Maya pushed through to reach them, her phone still live streaming. Jaylen, are you okay? What happened in there? Jaylen managed a small smile. I'm fine.
It's over now. Isaiah placed a protective hand on his son's shoulder, guiding him toward their car. The crowd parted before them, voices offering support and outrage on their behalf. But in his eyes, those who knew how to look could see the truth. It wasn't over.
Grayson had been removed, but he remained a threat. Unpredictable, desperate, and now totally unhinged. Later that night, as Grayson sat in a holding cell awaiting charges, he made a decision. If the system wouldn't listen, if no one would believe him about Isaiah King, then he would take matters into his own hands one last time. He needed leverage, something to force King into the open to make everyone see the truth.
And he knew exactly what that leverage would be. The morning after Jallen's public arrest and release, Officer Bradley Grayson was nowhere to be found. His apartment sat empty. His phone went straight to voicemail, and the ankle monitor he'd been fitted with as a condition of his release had been cut off and left on his kitchen counter. Chief Williams called an emergency meeting with his senior officers.
I want Grayson found now before he does something we'll all regret. But Grayson had vanished, his personal vehicle discovered abandoned at a bus station 20 mi outside of town. The man had gone completely off-rid, drawing on skills from his brief military training to evade detection. At the King residence, Isaiah received the news with a calm that unsettled the officer who delivered it. "You don't seem concerned," the officer observed.