Chapter 8 - The Dragon Awakens
Leon wasn't in a coma.
He had been pretending.
The moment Hector stepped closer to the bed to draw his own weapon, Leon’s old, calloused hand shot out like an iron trap, grabbing Hector by his tie and dragging his head violently down onto the sharp metal edge of the bedside table.
A sickening crunch echoed through the room as Hector’s nose shattered. He screamed, dropping his gun onto the floor.
"You thirty-year leech," Leon growled, his voice weak but brimming with pure, lethal fury as he held Hector down with the strength of a dying dragon. "You thought I was blind?!"
Dr. Silva threw open the heavy wooden supply doors at the back of the suite, yelling, "Federal agents! Move in!"
Saddled with the sudden arrival of armored FBI SWAT officers bursting through the hallway doors, Hector’s remaining guard threw his weapon to the floor and raised his hands in surrender.
FBI agents flooded the room, tackling Hector to the ground, securing his wrists in heavy steel cuffs while medical personnel rushed in to stabilize the telemetry systems.
Hector, bleeding profusely from his face, was dragged up from the floor. He glared at Leon, then at me, and finally at my four-year-old daughter standing calmly beside the bed.
"A deaf kid..." Hector spat bitterly through his bloodied teeth. "A useless, deaf kid ruined everything..."
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Leon Montenegro slowly sat up on the bed, pulling the oxygen tubes from his nose. He looked down at Hector with absolute contempt.
"She heard the truth when everyone else was deaf to your lies," Leon said, his deep voice carrying through the room. "Take him out of my sight."
