Chapter 13 - Final Confrontation on the Steps of Justice-13
The passenger-side door of the sports car was jammed shut from the impact against the streetlamp, but Simone kicked her side open with brute force, tumbling out onto the wet asphalt with her tactical shotgun raised.
"Stay back!" Simone screamed, leveling the barrel at Nathan’s chest.
Nathan stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wild and bloodshot. He lowered his pistol slightly, staring not at Simone, but at Leah as she pushed open the driver's side door and stepped out into the rain, cradling little Leo in her arms with fierce, unyielding protection.
"Leah... please," Nathan pleaded, his voice cracking with desperate emotion. "Just give me the baby. Mom’s car is right behind us. If you do this now, we can walk away. We can start over in Europe. Mom promised she’d drop the charges."
Leah stared at her husband, feeling nothing—no anger, no grief, only a cold, profound pity for the pathetic, hollow shell of a man standing before her.
"There is no 'we,' Nathan," Leah said, her voice ringing clear and steady across the plaza. "You chose your mother's bank accounts and your family name over your own flesh and blood. You signed your son's death warrant to keep a tyrant happy."
"I did it for us!" Nathan shouted hysterically, taking a step forward.
CLICK.
The distinctive sound of a shotgun being racked echoed from the top of the monumental stone steps of the Department of Justice building.
"Drop your weapon, Mr. Carver!" a booming, authoritative voice commanded.
Nathan whipped around. Standing at the top of the grand staircase, flanked by a dozen heavily armed federal marshals in full tactical gear, was a tall, imposing man with graying hair and an unrelenting stare—Marcus Vance, head of the DOJ public corruption task force.
In Marcus's hand was a ruggedized tablet displaying the exact master files Mae had just transmitted to his secure terminal.
"Nathan Carver, you are under arrest for conspiracy, infant trafficking, and obstruction of justice," Marcus announced, his voice echoing off the stone pillars. "Federal marshals, secure the perimeter!"
Before Nathan could raise his weapon, three federal agents swarmed him from behind, tackling him hard onto the wet pavement and slapping steel handcuffs onto his wrists. He thrashed and screamed like a madman, calling out his mother's name as he was dragged away toward a waiting federal van.
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Leah stood at the base of the stairs, the rain washing over her face, feeling the crushing weight of the past week finally lift from her shoulders. She looked down at little Leo, who blinked sleepily up at her, safe in her arms at last.
Simone walked over, resting a hand on Leah’s shoulder with a triumphant, weary smile. "It's over, Leah. They're done."
