No ID. Refusing a lawful order. Suspicious behavior. You boys are about 10 seconds away from eating concrete. Stand up and put your hands behind your back.
Officer Jenkins, Jonathan said, reading the man's name tag. He locked eyes with the cop, dropping all pretense of the street persona. His gaze was cold, piercing, and carried the weight of the federal government. You are interfering with something much larger than you can understand right now. Walk back to your cruiser now.
Jenkins froze for a fraction of a second, unsettled by the sudden shift in Jonathan's demeanor. This wasn't the fearful or angry reaction he was used to getting. This was a command. But Jenkins's arrogance quickly overrode his instincts. Are you threatening a police officer, boy?
Jenkins hissed, his hand dropping away from his pepper spray and moving directly to his taser. Target is making the exchange. Paul, you have to move in. Go, go, go! Cole yelled in their ears.
Jonathan and Sam had no choice. They had to execute the arrest on Penhaligan before he left the park with the cartel funds. We're moving, Jonathan said to Sam. Both agents stood up simultaneously, their eyes fixed on the cafe table 50 yards away, completely ignoring Jenkins. I said, hands behind your back!
Jenkins roared, entirely misinterpreting their movement. In his mind, they were either trying to flee or attack him. Before Jonathan could take a step toward Penhaligan, Jenkins lunged. Jenkins grabbed Jonathan by the shoulder of his hoodie and violently yanked him backward. Jonathan, caught off guard and focused entirely on the cartel target, stumbled against the heavy iron armrest of the bench.
Back off! Sam shouted, pivoting to intervene, his hands raised in a placating gesture. You're making a mistake. Assaulting an officer! Resisting arrest!
Jenkins screamed, spiraling into a panic of his own making. He pulled his taser and jammed it directly into Sam's chest. Get on the ground, or you ride the lightning down. At the cafe table, the heavyset cartel contact heard the shouting. He looked over, saw a police officer grappling with two men, and instantly recognized the chaotic signs of a bust.
He grabbed the briefcase, shoved the envelope back at Penhaligan, and took off, sprinting toward the street. Penhaligan didn't hesitate. He bolted in the opposite direction, melting into the crowd of tourists. No! Jonathan yelled, watching 2 years of undercover work evaporate in front of his eyes.