PART 23
We raced back to the safe house,
the FBI convoy tearing through the streets with sirens wailing.
When we arrived,
the front gates were wide open,
the security guard lying unconscious in the driveway.
We poured out of the vehicles,
weapons drawn.
I ran past the agents,
screaming Noah’s name,
ignoring Sarah’s shouts to stay back.
I burst into the playroom.
The room was upside down,
toys scattered everywhere,
a table smashed.
On the floor,
two federal agents lay unconscious,
bleeding from head wounds.
Noah’s stuffed bear was lying in the middle of the room,
its red ribbon torn off.
Noah was gone.
On the chalkboard on the wall,
written in thick white dust,
was a single address.
The River Stone Warehouse.
Pier 14.
Midnight.
Come alone,
or the boy goes into the ocean.
I fell to my knees,
clutching the stuffed bear to my chest,
my world turning completely black.
He had my baby.
The system had failed me again.
The FBI had failed me.
Sarah Mitchell knelt beside me,
putting her arm around my shaking shoulders.
"Emma, we will surround the pier,"
"we’ll use snipers,"
"we’ll get him."
"No!"
I screamed,
pushing her away,
looking at her with pure hatred.
"You said we were safe here!"
"You told me the feds would protect him!"
"He wants me, Sarah."
"He wants the ledger,
he wants the recordings."
"I’m going alone."
"I’m going to kill him myself."
I stood up,
wiping my tears,
the broken,
terrified Emma dying in that room.
May you like
A mother protecting her child is the most dangerous thing on earth,
and Judge Vance was about to find out why.
