Chapter 12: The Standoff in the Cul-de-sac
Outside, the neighborhood was completely still. The sun had almost dropped below the horizon, leaving the street illuminated only by the amber glow of the automatic porch lights that clicked on one by one down the block. Marcus and Toby were still sitting on the curb, their jeans stained with dust from the pavement.
The front door of number 14 opened, and Miller stepped out onto the porch alone. He didn't look like a man who had just secured a high-level federal asset; he looked tired, his tie slightly loosened at the collar, his jacket draped over his arm. He walked down the concrete steps, ignoring the remaining perimeter agents who stood at attention by the SUVs, and stopped a few feet from where Marcus was sitting.
"Your dad’s going to take a ride with us downtown, Marcus," Miller said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "He'll be back by morning. There’s some paperwork that needs to be filed in triplicate before the committee hears about it."
Marcus stood up quickly, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Where are you taking him? Why can't he just stay here?"
"Because your dad knows too much about old history that the present isn't ready to handle," Miller said. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, crumpled slightly from being in his wallet. He walked over and handed it to Marcus, who stared down at it in confusion.
"What's this for?" Marcus asked.
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"To replace the basketball," Miller said quietly. "Tell him I'm sorry about the seam. We have strict rules about obstructions."
Before Marcus could answer, Arthur walked out of the house flanked by two agents in dark suits. He didn't look defeated; he looked like a man who had finally finished a very long, difficult chapter of a book he had been reading for forty years. He caught Marcus’s eye and gave a small, reassuring nod, his shoulders squared as he stepped into the back of the black SUV.
