Already arranged, Ramirez assured him. But there's something else you should see. She led him to another table where a laptop displayed security footage from the school. We retrieved this from the backup servers. Watch the janitor, the one who grabbed your son.
Jonathan leaned in, watching as the footage showed Malik following the disguised operative down to the boiler room. His parental instincts flared with protective anger, but his professional training kept him focused on what Ramirez was showing him. There," she pointed as the janitor suddenly turned, grabbing Malik. "He recognized your son specifically." "This wasn't random.
He knew exactly who Malik was." They've been watching us, Jonathan said. The realization settling like ice in his brain. Not just at school, at home, too. The black SUV Malik spotted outside our house.
Wasn't one of ours, Ramirez confirmed. We checked the surveillance logs. There was no authorized protection detail on your residence until today. Jonathan's mind raced through the implications. If foreign operatives had been monitoring his home, what else might they know about his work?
About the classified operations he'd been involved in. I need to get Malik home, he said. And then I need to check our house for surveillance equipment. We've already dispatched a team, Ramirez told him. They're sweeping your residence now.
Jonathan nodded his thanks, turning to head back to Malik when Ramirez caught his arm. Carter, she said her voice lower. There's something else. The janitor, O'Reilly or whatever his real name is. He's not talking, but we found this in his locker.
She handed him a small photograph worn at the edges as if it had been handled frequently. It showed a younger Jonathan in combat fatigues standing with a group of special operation soldiers in a desert setting. Jonathan recognized the location immediately, a classified mission in Syria 5 years ago. How did he get this? Jonathan muttered more to himself than to Ramirez.
That's what I'd like to know, she replied. This isn't just about intelligence gathering anymore. This is personal. Jonathan tucked the photo into his pocket, his mind working furiously. Only a handful of people had access to images from that operation.
If the Kore group had obtained it, they had a source within the highest levels of US intelligence. Keep this between us for now, he told Ramirez. I need to make some calls. Back in the library, Malik and Ethan had dozed off, heads resting on their backpacks. Ms.
Anderson sat nearby, looking shell shocked and out of place among the federal agents. When she saw Jonathan approaching, she stood up nervously. Mr. Carter, she began. Her earlier confidence completely evaporated.
I want to apologize again for how I treated Malik. I had no idea that my son was telling the truth. Jonathan finished for her. His voice level, but with an edge of steel. You didn't believe him because of what exactly?