The teacher called him a liar for saying his dad worked at the Pentagon! Until a man in uniform walked in and said, “I’m here for my son!” All The class froze…
Jonathan Carter stood in the hallway outside the classroom, his government-issued phone displaying a red alert banner that made his blood run cold. The screen pulsed with two words: BREACH DETECTED.
«Jefferson Academy,» he murmured, reading the location tag. «How long ago?»
The agent who had delivered the initial warning checked his tablet, his fingers flying across the screen. «Minutes, sir. The cyber team detected it during routine monitoring. They flagged it immediately because of your standing security protocols regarding this specific location.»
Jonathan nodded grimly. He had indeed placed special monitoring on the school’s systems after the previous attempts to breach them, a precaution that now seemed disturbingly prescient. «What is the nature of the breach?»
«Multiple entry points, sir,» the agent replied, his voice low. «They hit the security cameras first, then the door-locking mechanisms. It has all the hallmarks of the group we’ve been tracking.»
Jonathan’s jaw tightened. For months, his team had been monitoring a sophisticated foreign intelligence cell operating on American soil. Their usual targets were defense contractors and government facilities, not private elementary schools. The fact that they had suddenly shifted focus to Jefferson Academy could not be a coincidence.
«Get me Agent Ramirez,» he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. «And implement Security Protocol Omega for this building immediately.»
As the agent hurried to comply, Principal Hayes approached, his face a mask of poorly concealed panic. «Mr. Carter, what exactly is happening? Should we evacuate the building?»
«No,» Jonathan replied firmly, stepping into the principal’s path to stop his frantic pacing. «For now, everyone stays put. I need you to initiate a soft lockdown. Keep all students and staff in their current locations, doors closed but not barricaded. Make it sound routine, like a drill. Can you do that?»
The principal nodded uncertainly, wiping sweat from his brow. «Yes, but…»
«Good. Do it now, please.»
As Hayes hurried toward the main office to make the announcement, Jonathan saw a familiar figure entering the school’s main glass doors. It was FBI Agent Maria Ramirez, the mysterious woman in the trench coat Malik had spotted watching the school days earlier.
«Carter,» she greeted him with a curt nod as she approached. «Quite a coincidence, you being here today.»
«I don’t believe in coincidences,» Jonathan replied, his eyes scanning the hallway. «Especially not when my son’s school is targeted by the same group we’ve been tracking for months.»
Ramirez’s expression hardened. «We have reason to believe there is a physical threat inside this building. The cyber intrusion is likely just the first step.»
«Are your people in position?»
She nodded. «Perimeter is secure. We’ve got teams covering all exits.»
«Good. Let’s—»
Jonathan’s response was cut short by the school’s PA system crackling to life.
«Attention all students and staff,» Principal Hayes’s voice announced, remarkably steady considering the circumstances. «We are initiating a precautionary lockdown procedure. Please remain in your current locations with doors closed until further notice. This is not a drill, but there is no cause for alarm.»
«No cause for alarm,» Ramirez muttered dryly. «That always works.»
Jonathan was already moving back toward Ms. Anderson’s classroom. «I need to get back to my son.»
Inside the classroom, the announcement had generated precisely the kind of nervous tension Hayes had hoped to avoid. Parents were checking their phones, scrolling through news feeds for information. Students were whispering among themselves, casting anxious glances at the windows. Ms. Anderson stood frozen at the front of the room, clearly unsure how to proceed without her usual script.
Jonathan entered and immediately took control of the situation, his presence commanding the room. «Everyone, please remain calm. This is a standard security precaution.»
«What’s happening, Mr. Carter?» one of the parents demanded, standing up. «Are our children in danger?»
«Right now, the best thing everyone can do is stay calm and follow instructions,» Jonathan replied evenly. «Ms. Anderson, please make sure all blinds are closed and the door is locked.»
The teacher moved to comply, though her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the blinds. Jonathan noticed Tyler’s father, Mr. Whitman, watching him suspiciously.
«Is this related to your presence here today?» Whitman asked accusingly. «Have you brought some sort of threat to our children?»
Before Jonathan could respond, Ms. Anderson surprisingly came to his defense. «Mr. Whitman, please. Mr. Carter is clearly helping to ensure our safety.»
Jonathan gave her a brief nod of thanks before addressing the room again. «I understand everyone’s concern. Please trust that we have security personnel throughout the building. The lockdown is precautionary.»
He moved to where Malik and Ethan sat, their faces showing a mixture of fear and excitement.
«Dad, what’s really happening?» Malik whispered, tugging on his father’s sleeve.
«Just a security concern we’re addressing,» Jonathan replied quietly, kneeling beside the desk. «I need you to help keep everyone calm, okay?»
Malik nodded, recognizing the seriousness in his father’s tone. «Is it because of your work?»
Before Jonathan could answer, his phone vibrated again. The message was brief but alarming: Suspicious package found in basement. EOD team en route.
«I need to step out again,» Jonathan told Malik. «Stay here. Don’t leave this room for any reason.»
As Jonathan moved toward the door, Ms. Anderson approached him. «Mr. Carter,» she said softly, her earlier smugness entirely gone. «Should I be worried?»
«Just keep everyone in this room,» he replied. «I’ll be back as soon as I can.»
Outside in the hallway, Jonathan found Agent Ramirez waiting for him, accompanied by two FBI agents in tactical gear.
«EOD team is ten minutes out,» she reported, falling into step beside him. «Building services found a package near the main electrical controls. They say it has wires visible.»
«Show me,» Jonathan said.
They moved swiftly through the eerily quiet hallways, descending a service stairwell to the school’s basement. Two more agents were already there, keeping a safe distance from a backpack propped against the wall near the electrical panel.
«No one’s touched it?» Jonathan asked.
«Negative. Building services supervisor spotted it during his security sweep, called it in immediately.»
Jonathan approached cautiously, studying the backpack without touching it. The partially unzipped top revealed what looked like circuit boards and wiring. He squinted at the components, recognizing the configuration not as an explosive device, but something equally intrusive.
«This isn’t a bomb,» he said after a moment, standing up. «It’s a surveillance package. High-end military grade. Someone has been monitoring this building’s systems from the inside.»
Ramirez frowned. «Why would foreign operatives be interested in a private school?»
«That’s what we need to find out,» Jonathan replied. He turned to one of the agents. «Get me the school’s personnel files—everyone who has access to this area. and I want security footage from the past week.»
«Sir,» the agent replied, «the school’s security system has been compromised. We don’t know if the footage is intact.»
«Then get me the backup tapes,» Jonathan snapped. «A place like this will have physical backups.»
As the agents hurried to comply, Jonathan’s phone buzzed with another message. This one sent a chill down his spine: Facial recognition match on school maintenance staff. Known foreign operative. Last seen near East Wing five minutes ago.
Jonathan showed the message to Ramirez, whose expression darkened. «The East Wing. That’s where the server room is located.»
«And where they keep student and family information,» Jonathan added grimly. «This isn’t random. They’re after something specific.»
«Or someone,» Ramirez suggested.
The implication hung in the air between them. Jonathan’s position at the Pentagon gave him access to some of the nation’s most sensitive security information. A foreign intelligence operation targeting his son’s school on the very day of his visit couldn’t be coincidence.
«We need to lock down the server room,» Jonathan decided. «And I want all maintenance staff accounted for immediately.»
As they headed toward the East Wing, Principal Hayes intercepted them, his earlier composure now completely gone. «Mr. Carter! Parents are getting agitated. They’re demanding answers. Some are threatening to leave with their children despite the lockdown.»
«Tell them that doing so could put everyone at risk,» Jonathan replied firmly. «This is a matter of national security.»
«National security?» Hayes’s eyes widened. «At a school?»
«I need your cooperation, not your questions,» Jonathan said. «Keep everyone where they are. We’ll handle this.»
As Hayes reluctantly departed, Agent Ramirez received an update through her earpiece. «We’ve got a problem,» she reported. «The maintenance worker identified as a foreign operative… he’s not in the East Wing. According to building services, he should be doing rounds in the West Wing right now.»
Jonathan felt his blood run cold. «The classrooms are in the West Wing. Including my son’s.»
Without another word, they both began running toward Ms. Anderson’s classroom. As they rounded the corner, Jonathan saw a man in a gray maintenance uniform outside Room 112, fiddling with what appeared to be a key card reader next to the door.
«FBI! Don’t move!» Ramirez shouted, drawing her weapon.
The man’s head snapped up. For a split second, his eyes met Jonathan’s—cold, calculating eyes that Jonathan instantly recognized as those of a trained operative. Then he bolted, running down the hallway away from them.
«Stay with the classroom!» Jonathan called to Ramirez as he took off after the man.
The chase led through the winding hallways of Jefferson Academy, past startled teachers who had peeked out of their rooms despite the lockdown orders. The operative was fast and clearly knew the building’s layout, taking turns and shortcuts that suggested detailed planning. Jonathan followed him down another stairwell, into a service corridor that led toward the cafeteria.
As they burst into the large, empty dining area, the man suddenly whirled around, a knife appearing in his hand.
«You should have stayed out of this, Carter,» he said in heavily accented English.
«Who sent you?» Jonathan demanded, keeping a safe distance, his body automatically shifting into a defensive stance.
The man smirked. «You know who. The same people who have been watching your every move for months. Did you really think your son would be safe here?»
A cold fury rose in Jonathan’s chest. «If anything happens to my son…»
«Then you should have been more careful about where you sent him to school,» the man interrupted. «So many important families. So much valuable data. This place is a goldmine of intelligence.»
Before Jonathan could respond, the gymnasium doors behind the operative burst open. Two FBI agents rushed in, weapons drawn. The operative, seeing he was cornered, made a desperate lunge toward Jonathan with his knife.
Jonathan sidestepped the attack with the practiced ease of someone with extensive combat training. In one fluid motion, he caught the man’s arm, twisted it behind his back, and forced him to the ground.
«It’s over,» he said as the agents moved in to secure the operative. «Tell your handlers they picked the wrong school to target.»
With the immediate threat neutralized, Jonathan hurried back toward Ms. Anderson’s classroom, his mind racing. If this operative had been watching the school, what was his ultimate goal? And more importantly, was he working alone?
As he approached Room 112, he saw Agent Ramirez outside the door, speaking urgently into her radio.
«We’ve got another problem,» she said as Jonathan reached her. «Building security just reported movement in the air ducts near the main office. And there’s an unauthorized voice on the school’s radio frequency.»
Jonathan’s expression hardened. «This was never about data or surveillance. It’s a coordinated extraction operation. They’re after one of the students.»
«Or multiple students,» Ramirez suggested. «Think about it. This school has children of diplomats, government officials, defense contractors…»
«…including my son,» Jonathan finished grimly. «We need to get everyone out of here. Now.»
Just as he reached for the classroom door, a muffled bang echoed through the building, followed by the immediate wail of fire alarms. Inside the classroom, panic erupted. Parents clutched their children, students cried out in fear, and Ms. Anderson stood helplessly at the front, trying in vain to maintain order.
«Everyone stay calm!» Jonathan called as he entered. His authoritative voice cut through the chaos, bringing a momentary hush to the room. «We need to evacuate in an orderly fashion. Follow the FBI agents outside to the designated safe area.»
«What was that explosion?» someone demanded.
«Likely a diversionary tactic,» Jonathan replied honestly. «Which is why we need to move quickly but calmly.»
As Agent Ramirez began organizing the evacuation, Jonathan moved to Malik’s side.
«Stay right beside me,» he instructed his son. «No matter what happens, don’t get separated.»
Malik nodded, his eyes wide but remarkably steady. «What about Ethan?»
Jonathan glanced at Malik’s friend, who looked terrified. «He comes with us. Both of you, hold onto my jacket and don’t let go.»
As they joined the line of students and parents being escorted from the classroom, Jonathan noticed Ms. Anderson hanging back, seemingly frozen with indecision.
«Ms. Anderson,» he called. «Come with us. Now.»
The teacher startled at his voice, then hurried to join them. «I’m sorry,» she whispered as they moved into the hallway. «I didn’t believe him. I didn’t believe Malik about you.»
«We’ll discuss that later,» Jonathan replied curtly. «Right now, focus on getting safely out of this building.»
The hallway was filling with students and staff from other classrooms, all being directed toward the nearest exits by FBI agents and local police who had responded to the alarm. Through the growing crowd, Jonathan spotted something that made his blood run cold: another maintenance worker, moving against the flow of evacuees, his hand reaching suspiciously inside his jacket.
«Ramirez!» Jonathan called out, pointing toward the suspicious figure. «Three o’clock!»
The FBI agent reacted instantly, signaling to her team. Two agents broke off from the evacuation line and moved to intercept the man. Seeing he’d been spotted, the man suddenly pulled out what looked like a small remote device.
«Everybody down!» Jonathan shouted, pulling Malik and Ethan to the floor and shielding them with his body. Ms. Anderson dropped beside them, covering her head.
Instead of an explosion, however, the school’s lights suddenly went dark. Emergency lighting kicked in seconds later, casting the hallway in an eerie red glow.
«Power cut,» Jonathan muttered, helping the boys back to their feet. «They’re trying to disable the security systems completely.»
The evacuation continued, more urgent now in the dimmed lighting. Jonathan kept a firm grip on Malik and Ethan as they neared the exit, his eyes constantly scanning for threats. They had almost reached the doors when a loud crash came from behind them. Jonathan turned to see the second operative engaged in a struggle with the FBI agents, knocking over a glass trophy display case in the process.
Glass shattered across the floor as students screamed and parents pushed toward the exits in panic.
«Keep moving,» Jonathan urged, guiding the boys and Ms. Anderson forward.
Outside, the school grounds had been transformed into a tactical operations center. Police cars, FBI vehicles, and even military personnel created a secure perimeter around the building. Students and staff were being directed to gathering points where they were checked off against attendance records.
Jonathan guided Malik and Ethan to the nearest FBI checkpoint, where Agent Ramirez was coordinating the response.
«Status?» Jonathan asked her.
«Two operatives in custody, one still unaccounted for,» she reported tersely. «We found surveillance equipment in the server room, the principal’s office, and three classrooms.»
«Including Ms. Anderson’s?» Jonathan asked.
Ramirez nodded. «Primary target. They’ve been monitoring it for at least a week, according to the equipment timestamps.»
Ms. Anderson, who had been standing nearby, gasped audibly. «Monitoring my classroom? Why?»
«That’s what we intend to find out,» Jonathan replied, looking back at the school building where FBI agents were still conducting a thorough sweep.
As they stood in the relative safety of the perimeter, Jonathan noticed Malik looking up at him with a mixture of fear, confusion, and a dawning understanding.
«This is why you couldn’t come to school events before, isn’t it?» Malik asked quietly. «This is what you really do?»
Jonathan placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. «Part of it, yes. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more.»
«Is this because of your work? Is that why they came here?»
Before Jonathan could answer, a suspicious bag was carried out of the building by an FBI evidence team. As they set it down at a safe distance, Jonathan’s face darkened with recognition.
«That’s not just surveillance equipment,» he said to Ramirez. «That’s a data mining package designed to extract information from secure networks. Military grade.»
«What would they want from a school network?» Ramirez wondered.
Jonathan’s expression was grim as the pieces finally came together. «They weren’t after the school’s data. They were using the school’s connection to access the home networks of government officials and defense contractors through their children’s devices.»
«Tablets, laptops, phones… all connecting to both school and home networks, creating a backdoor into otherwise secure systems,» Ramirez concluded. «Clever.»
Ms. Anderson, who had been listening to this exchange with growing horror, suddenly turned to Malik. «I owe you an apology,» she said, her voice trembling slightly. «I should have believed you about your father.»
Malik, still processing the day’s events, simply nodded.
Jonathan checked his phone as another update came in. «They’ve apprehended the third operative trying to escape through the service entrance. The building is secure.»
A collective sigh of relief passed through the gathered parents and staff. As the immediate danger receded, Jonathan found himself the center of attention, with parents approaching to thank him and ask questions. Through it all, he kept Malik close by his side, his hand resting protectively on his son’s shoulder. The look they exchanged spoke volumes—a new understanding between father and son, forged in the crucible of this extraordinary day.
Principal Hayes, looking considerably more disheveled than he had that morning, approached them. «Mr. Carter, I don’t know how to thank you. Your quick action may have saved lives today.»
«I was just doing my job,» Jonathan replied. «But if you want to thank me, you might start by ensuring all students at Jefferson Academy are treated with equal respect, regardless of their background.»
Hayes nodded earnestly, his gaze flickering briefly to Ms. Anderson, who had the good grace to look ashamed.
As the emergency response continued around them, Jonathan knelt down to eye level with Malik. «You did good today,» he told his son quietly. «You kept your head, you stayed calm. I’m proud of you.»
Malik’s face brightened at the praise. «Does this mean I can tell the kids at school what you really do now?»
Jonathan chuckled, some of the day’s tension finally releasing. «Some things are still safer if they stay between us. But I think they’ve gotten the general idea.»
Around them, Jefferson Academy would never be quite the same again, and neither would Malik’s place within it.
As evening descended on Jefferson Academy, the initial chaos had transformed into an organized investigation. Police tape cordoned off sections of the building, and teams of FBI agents methodically combed through classrooms and corridors. The once-pristine private school now resembled a crime scene, which, Jonathan reflected grimly, was exactly what it had become.
Most families had been cleared to leave after giving statements, but Jonathan, Malik, and Ethan remained, along with several government officials whose children attended the school. They sat in the library, which had been designated as a secure area, while agents continued their work throughout the building.
«How much longer do we have to stay, Dad?» Malik asked, fatigue evident in his voice. The excitement of the day had worn off, replaced by exhaustion.
«Not much longer,» Jonathan promised, checking his watch. «Agent Ramirez just needs to finish processing the evidence.»
As if summoned by her name, Ramirez appeared in the library doorway, her trench coat now replaced by an FBI windbreaker. She beckoned to Jonathan, who squeezed Malik’s shoulder reassuringly before joining her.
«We’ve completed our initial assessment of the surveillance equipment,» she said in a low voice. «It’s more sophisticated than we thought. Military-grade, with advanced encryption protocols that match what we’ve seen from the Korev Group.»
Jonathan’s expression darkened. The Korev Group was a notorious cyber-espionage collective with ties to foreign intelligence services. His team had been tracking their activities for months, but this was the first time they had targeted an American school.
«Any idea what their primary objective was?» he asked.
«We’re still analyzing the data, but it looks like they were gathering intelligence on multiple high-value targets through their children’s school accounts. Cross-referencing student names with parents in sensitive positions.»
Jonathan nodded grimly. «And my son? Was he on their list?»
Ramirez hesitated, which was answer enough. «His name was flagged in their system. Along with seven other students whose parents work in national security.»
A cold anger settled in Jonathan’s chest. They were using children to get to their parents.
«It gets worse,» Ramirez continued, leading Jonathan to a table where an evidence technician was examining what looked like an ordinary janitor’s maintenance cart. «We found this in the boiler room. It’s not just cleaning supplies.»
The technician carefully lifted a false bottom in the cart, revealing a compartment containing handcuffs, zip ties, and a small case of syringes.
«Sedatives,» Ramirez explained. «Enough to incapacitate several children.»
«They weren’t just gathering intelligence,» Jonathan realized, his voice hardening. «They were planning an abduction.»
«Leverage,» Ramirez agreed. «Take a child, force the parent to cooperate. It’s an old playbook, but effective.»
Jonathan’s jaw tightened. «I want security details assigned to all the targeted families. And I want round-the-clock protection for Malik until we’ve neutralized this threat completely.»
«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 operations soldiers in a desert setting. Jonathan recognized the location immediately: a classified mission in Syria, five 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 Korev Group had obtained it, they had a source within the highest levels of U.S. 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? His race? His background? The fact that he doesn’t come from old money like most of your students?»
Ms. Anderson flinched as if slapped. «I… I never meant to…»
«You never meant to be caught,» Jonathan corrected her. «Let me be clear, Ms. Anderson. Your treatment of my son and others like him ends today. Principal Hayes has already agreed to a full review of Jefferson Academy’s inclusivity practices, with particular attention to faculty bias.»
«You can’t…» she began, then stopped herself, realizing the precariousness of her position.
«I can, and I have,» Jonathan replied calmly. «Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take my son home.»
He gently woke Malik and Ethan, who blinked groggily back to consciousness.
«Time to go?» Malik asked, rubbing his eyes.
«Almost,» Jonathan replied. «Ethan, your parents are on their way. They should be here any minute.»
As if on cue, an agent appeared at the door. «Mr. Carter? The Williams family has arrived for their son.»
Ethan gathered his things, then turned to Malik. «This was the craziest day ever,» he said, his voice a mixture of awe and lingering fear. «Will you be at school tomorrow?»
«I don’t know,» Malik replied, looking to his father.
«We’ll see,» Jonathan said noncommittally. «Let’s get through tonight first.»
After Ethan left with his visibly shaken parents, Jonathan led Malik through the now-quiet school corridors. FBI agents nodded respectfully as they passed, and Malik couldn’t help noticing how deferential everyone was to his father—the same father Ms. Anderson had mocked him for claiming worked at the Pentagon.
Outside, the black SUVs—legitimate government vehicles this time—waited to escort them home. As they climbed into the backseat of the lead vehicle, Malik finally asked the question that had been building all day.
«Dad, who were those people? Why were they at my school?»
Jonathan considered his son’s question carefully. The age-old instinct to protect Malik by keeping him in the dark warred with the day’s stark reality: ignorance hadn’t protected him at all.
«They were intelligence operatives working for a foreign government,» he said finally. «They were gathering information. And possibly…» He hesitated, then decided Malik deserved the truth. «Possibly planning to take some of the students whose parents work in sensitive positions.»
«Like me?» Malik asked, his eyes widening.
«Yes,» Jonathan admitted. «Like you.»
«Because of what you do at the Pentagon?»
Jonathan nodded, watching his son carefully for signs of fear. To his surprise, Malik’s expression showed more curiosity than terror.
«So you’re not just an analyst,» Malik said. It wasn’t a question.
«No,» Jonathan confirmed. «I lead a counter-intelligence unit. We identify and neutralize threats to national security.»
«Is that why we never talk about your work at home? Why you never come to school events?»
«Partly,» Jonathan said. «My position is classified, and maintaining a low profile helps protect both the operations I oversee and our family.»
Malik was quiet for a moment, processing this information. Then he asked, «Is Mom okay? Should we call her?»
Jonathan smiled at his son’s concern. «She’s fine. I spoke with her while you were sleeping. Her conference in Chicago is secure, and we have agents with her as a precaution. She’ll be home tomorrow.»
The SUV turned onto their street, and Jonathan noticed Malik tensing as they approached their house. The events of the day had clearly shaken his sense of safety.
«It’s okay,» Jonathan reassured him. «Our house is secure. There are agents checking it right now, and we’ll have protection tonight.»
Sure enough, as they pulled into the driveway, they could see agents moving efficiently around their property, while others waited by the front door. One approached as Jonathan and Malik exited the vehicle.
«Sir, we’ve completed the sweep. We found and neutralized three listening devices: one in the living room, one in the kitchen, and one in your home office. The house is clear now.»
«Thank you,» Jonathan replied. «Maintain the perimeter through the night. I want a guard on every entrance.»
«Yes, sir.»
Inside, the house looked exactly as they had left it that morning, though Malik noticed small telltale signs of the security sweep—a picture frame slightly askew, a book not quite back in its original position on the shelf.
«They were listening? To us in our own house?» he asked, his voice small.
Jonathan nodded grimly.
«For how long?»
«We don’t know yet. But they can’t do it anymore.» He guided Malik upstairs. «Get ready for bed. It’s been a long day.»
«I’m not sure I can sleep,» Malik admitted.
«Try,» Jonathan said gently. «You’re safe now. I promise.»
After Malik had changed and brushed his teeth, Jonathan sat on the edge of his bed, something he hadn’t done since Malik was much younger.
«I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more about my work,» he said. «I thought I was protecting you by keeping you in the dark.»
«It’s okay,» Malik replied. «I understand now.»
«No more secrets between us,» Jonathan promised. «At least, not about the important things.»
As Malik drifted toward sleep, Jonathan remained seated beside him, his mind turning over the events of the day. The photograph from Syria troubled him deeply. It suggested a connection between the school operation and his past missions—a personal vendetta rather than just routine intelligence gathering.
His phone vibrated with a message from Ramirez: O’Reilly talking. Says he answers to someone named Volk. Ring any bells?
Jonathan stared at the message, a cold weight settling in his stomach. Anton Volk. A name from the past. From the very mission depicted in the photograph—a mission that had ended with five enemy operatives dead and one who had escaped, wounded but alive.
He typed back: Yes. High priority. We’ll brief in person tomorrow. Double the security detail at my house tonight.
Setting his phone aside, Jonathan looked down at his sleeping son. The day’s events had changed everything. The careful separation he’d maintained between his work and family life had been shattered, and now a ghost from his past threatened them both. One thing was certain: tomorrow would bring a reckoning.
