“…me!” Kavanagh commanded him.
Tom Lovett wasn’t an instrument of murder anymore. He was nobody’s puppet—nobody’s weapon.
The expression on Kavanagh’s face as Tom removed the gun barrel from his head was priceless. He stepped back, putting the Beretta into his jacket pocket.
“What are you doing?” Kavanagh asked.
“This is Sleeper One, Pandora,” Tom said, pressing his hand to a tiny earpiece. “Suspect has been apprehended; prepare for immediate retrieval.”
“That’s an affirmative, Sleeper One.” He heard the sound of Christian Tremain’s voice in his ear. “Good job.”
Madison Fitzgerald smiled warmly as Tom approached. He stood beside her, and she reached down to give his hand a secret squeeze of support, their fingers intertwining together behind his back.
Tom watched the Janus children quickly restrain Kavanagh, dragging him screaming toward the black van that suddenly came screeching around the corner.
As the kids forced him inside the back of the van, Kavanagh struggled in their grasp, turning around to look at Tom.
You’re a weapon, created to kill. That’s all you were ever meant to be, the final look in Brandon Kavanagh’s eyes said as he disappeared inside the belly of the van.
But Tom knew otherwise.
He was so much more than that.
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Sleeper Agenda Page 20
