You've been playing games long enough. Time for the truth. The smoke was thickening, making it difficult to see clearly. Grayson began backing toward the door, dragging Jallen with him. I'm taking your son somewhere to have a real conversation, Grayson announced.
No interference, no special forces backup, no Pentagon calls, just us, and then everyone will know who you really are. Isaiah took a single step forward. Bradley, listen to me carefully. There are lines you don't cross even in war. This is one of them.
Stay back, Grayson warned, his hand shaking slightly as he pressed the gun harder against Jallen's head. Isaiah stopped, his hands visible. Take me instead. I'm the one you want. No.
Grayson laughed bitterly. You're too dangerous. The boy comes with me. You'll get instructions soon. With that, he dragged Jallen outside to a waiting car.
As they sped away, Isaiah moved with startling efficiency, first ensuring Angela was safe, then activating a device on his wrist. Blackbird compromised. He spoke into it. Priority alpha tracking active. Angela clutched his arm.
What did you do? Tell me you can find him. Isaiah's expression was grim but focused. Jaylen's watch. It has a tracker, military grade, undetectable.
The buck teams you mentioned before, already mobilizing, Isaiah assured her. But I'm not waiting for them. Miles away in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. Grayson forced Jallen into a metal chair, securing his hands with zip ties. The teenager remained calm despite his racing heart, his father's teachings echoing in his mind.
When in danger, observe everything. Knowledge is survival. Grayson paced before him, gun still in hand, clearly unraveling. He'd removed his mask, revealing wild eyes and 3 days growth of beard. Your dad's some kind of operative, isn't he?
Grayson demanded. Running missions right here in America against Americans. Jallen said nothing. Studying the warehouse instead. Two exits, high windows, concrete floor, a camera set up on a tripod, Grayson planned to record whatever happened next.
The silent treatment won't help you, Grayson warned, leaning close. I know enough already. Those classified files, the Pentagon calls, the surveillance equipment in your house. Normal families don't live like that. Still, Jallen remained silent.
His eyes steadily meeting Grayson's. The resemblance to Isaiah's unwavering gaze only infuriated the ex- officer more. "Talk!" Grayson shouted, slamming his hand on a nearby table. Jallen finally spoke, his voice surprisingly steady.