Chapter 8
The air in the living room grew thick with a lethal tension. Lieutenant Miller’s hand hovered just inches from his service weapon, his fingers twitching as he weighed the odds of drawing against a seasoned detective who had the drop on him. His eyes flicked from the barrel of Elena’s gun to her face, searching for any sign of hesitation. He found none.
"You're making a terrible mistake, Elena," Miller said, his voice dropping into a low, menacing rasp. "If I go down, the entire command staff goes down with me. You think Captain Vance is going to let you walk out of this precinct with a clean shield after tonight? You're isolated."
"I'm standing in my own home, protecting my daughter," Elena retorted, not moving an inch. Her stance was ironclad, her breathing slow and controlled. "You crossed a line the moment you brought family into this. Put your hands on the counter. Now."
Sarah slammed her laptop shut, sliding it into her backpack while keeping her eyes fixed on the armed man in her kitchen. "Mom, don't listen to him. He's got a backup team outside in an unmarked van. I saw them pull up two minutes before you got here."
Elena didn't blink. She knew Sarah was right; the tactical reality of the situation was precarious. If she arrested Miller here, she would have to get him past a hostile department before morning. But letting him walk wasn't an option either.
"Hands on the counter, Miller," Elena repeated, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Slowly, deliberately, Miller raised his hands, resting his palms flat against the granite surface of the kitchen island. A thin smile played at the corner of his mouth, defiant and arrogant. "You think arresting me solves anything, Reyes? The network is bigger than you, bigger than Vance, bigger than this city. You're fighting a tide with a teacup."
"Maybe so," Elena replied, stepping forward to kick Miller’s service weapon out of its holster and across the linoleum floor. "But I'm going to drown a lot of corrupt bastards before I go under."
With a swift, practiced motion, Elena forced Miller down against the counter, snapping the steel cuffs onto his wrists with a sharp, metallic click. The echo of the cuffs sounded like a gavel falling in a courtroom.
"Sarah, grab the encrypted drive and your go-bag," Elena ordered without looking back. "We're leaving. Now."
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"Where are we going, Mom?" Sarah asked, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she stood up.
"We're going to federal custody," Elena said, hauling Miller to his feet. "It's the only place left where the walls aren't entirely made of glass."
