Cheyn sat on the couch.

Dante’s hand tightened on his gun, his jaw clenching. He watched his prey pull out his cell phone, scrolling through it idly. Attack plan be damned—Dante was furious. He burst out from behind the door, gun drawn, so angry he almost snarled.

“Federal agent! Put your hands in the air!”

Cheyn started and almost fell off the couch before he launched into a standing position. He stared at Dante in disbelief, then shook his head.

“I said put your hands in the air!” Dante took another step closer.

“Dante? How did you? I mean…uh…where have you—” Cheyn’s eyes darted to the exits.

“Save it. I know it was you.”

“Man, I don’t know—” Cheyn said.

“I know you’re here to meet Kaimi. I know you’ve been feeding him information from the start. Don’t deny it.”

Cheyn filled his lungs with air, and just stared back at Dante. His eyes hardened, his face became stony. His arms were still at his sides, with his hands clenched into fists.

“Why? Why did you do this to me?” Dante gritted his teeth.

“I don’t know what you mean, man. You did it, not me.”

“Don’t you dare, you son of a bitch. How can you live with yourself knowing you let me take the blame for what you did?”

Cheyn shook his head.

“That was your fault, not mine. You didn’t have to leave with the girl.”

“What was I supposed to do? Just let Kaimi keep hunting her from house to house? She was under my protection—our protection!”

Cheyn cocked his head to the side.

Dante fought the urge to fire his gun.

“I told you not to get too close to her. I warned you. I tried.” He shrugged.

“You’re a disgrace. You betrayed me. You betrayed the department, and your country! Why? I want to know why!” Dante shook his gun at him.

“You’re not the judge of me, haole.”

Dante bared his teeth at the insult.

“We were friends. For years, you and I worked this job, in this house. You BETRAYED me!”

Cheyn raised his hands and arms in a helpless gesture.

“What was I supposed to do, Dante? Do you know how powerful that man is? Kaimi feeds my family. Kaimi feeds my whole family. My brother works at the docks for him. He owns my whole town, man! What was I supposed to do? Give up my entire family for some woman I don’t even know?”

“You got to know her. What about David and Max? Were they expendable too?”

Cheyn’s hands dropped like stone. He spread his legs wider. Every muscle in Cheyn’s body began to pulse with tension. Dante steadied himself. His anger waned, allowing him to focus on the task at hand, as he readjusted his aim toward Cheyn’s chest.

“It wasn’t supposed to go down like that! I let them in, to sneak upstairs to Laurie. Max came back from the gear check too fast. It all just exploded. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that!”

“It wouldn’t have gone down like that if you had just come to me in the first place! You didn’t need to be on this assignment. You could have just stayed the hell out of it.”

“That would kill my family. If she goes into that courtroom, and Kaimi goes to jail, my family starves. I can’t let that happen.” Cheyn tapped his chest.

“They can find other jobs, for God’s sake Cheyn!”

“That’s enough, son,” Albert said gently in Dante’s ear. “Bring him in.”

Dante took a deep breath. He took a step toward Cheyn.

Cheyn stared back at him, but he didn’t move a muscle.

“It’s over Cheyn. I’m taking you in.”

“They’ll just arrest you, man.” Cheyn gave him a sly smile. “They think you’re the mole. You’re the killer. You did that to yourself, bossman.”

“This is all being recorded.” Dante shook his head.

Cheyn’s smile disappeared, as his eyes floated up to the camera above Dante’s head, mounted to the wall. Cheyn’s hand dangled above his gun, his fingers twitching.

“I can’t let you do that, Dante. You’re not bringing me in.”

“Don’t do this, Cheyn. It’s over. It’s time to turn yourself in.”

“No, sir. I’m not going to jail with all of the criminals I’ve helped put away. Either you bring in my body or you don’t bring in anything at all.”

“Cheyn—don’t!” Dante screamed.

Cheyn reached for his gun. He gave Dante no choice. Dante fired before Cheyn even had his gun out of his holster. His shot hit Cheyn square in the chest. A second shot from Bob’s perch above, pierced Cheyn from the back and he lurched forward, falling onto the floor on his knees. Dante rushed forward. He wrestled away Cheyn’s gun—flinging it to the side.

Dante grabbed Cheyn’s shoulders. Cheyn looked up at him, confusion and terror flashed across his face.

“My family,” he choked out.

Dante helped Cheyn lay down on the floor. He applied pressure to the wound, which poured out blood. Cheyn coughed, and blood drained out the side of his mouth, painting his lips in burgundy. Cheyn clutched at Dante’s forearm, and Dante looked down into his dark eyes.

“I’ll take care of them. I’ll call them when we get you to a hospital. Bob, Dad? Call 911!”

Cheyn shook his head and gripped Dante’s arm tighter. He tried to speak, but then his eyes rolled. He gasped in pain. Dante fought the panic rising in his chest. He took his best friends hand, pressing it to his heart. Dante felt the tears burning at the back of his eyes. It took a few minutes for Cheyn’s vision to refocus on Dante.

“He knows. He knows.” Cheyn gripped his shoulder.

“Just hang in there, okay? Don’t talk. We’ll get you to a hospital. You’ll be fine.”

“Listen! He knows you…went to your dad.” Cheyn gasped for air.

“What? No, no, no,” moaned Dante. “Don’t do this. Christ!”

Cheyn looked up into his eyes, and Dante saw the sheer terror there. Cheyn gasped for air. His eyes wandered up and down Dante’s face. Then his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Cheyn’s body gave a shudder. Dante clung to his hand.

“Cheyn! Cheyn! Don’t.”

The light behind Cheyn’s eyes flickered and died. His body went slack, and he sank into the blood soaked carpet beneath him.

Dante knelt, just breathing for a while. He hardly noticed his father and uncle standing over him. He stared at Cheyn’s lifeless expression. He felt sick to his stomach. Then anger welled up in him, bubbling over. He slammed his fist into the carpet several times.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” he screamed. “God damn it!”

He pushed himself off the carpet to walk to the windows. He pressed his forehead to the cool glass, but it didn’t quench his anger.

“You had to shoot, Dante. He went for his gun.” Bob spoke softly.

“Well, why the hell did he have to do that?” Dante turned on his uncle. “I mean why?”

“We don’t have time for this now, son. Kaimi will be here any minute. We have to move the body and get back into our places.” Albert gestured to Cheyn’s body.

Dante turned his heated gaze on his father.

His father looked back at him with sternness, but there was a hint of sympathy there. His father reached out, gripping Dante’s shoulder.

There was no time. Dante knew it, and he hated it.

“I’m sorry. But you have to grieve for your friend later.” Albert gave him a little shake.

Dante turned away. He hit the wall with his open palm. Kaimi was the true target. He beat back his anger, promising himself to take it out on Kaimi. Dante walked over to the safe room door, unlatched it, and shoved it to the side. When he turned, his father and uncle lifted Cheyn’s body, carrying it over into the safe room. Dante locked the door again. Then he picked up a blanket from the couch and dropped it on the floor to cover the fresh bloodstain.

“Remember the plan.” Albert gave a pointed look to Dante. “Wait until they’re all in the living room. Take out the guards first, but spare Kaimi.”

Dante nodded, just as the flash of lights from outside alerted them to Kaimi’s arrival. They dashed to their hiding places as the front door opened.