Chapter 4 - The Local Police And The Federal Warrant
I looked down at Serena, who was trembling violently on the floor. I tapped my smartwatch, syncing the audio file to the house’s Bluetooth surround sound system—which Leon had thoughtfully re-powered.
Serena’s shrill, panicked voice echoed through the destroyed foyer in crystal clear, high-definition audio: “Fine! Yes! I gave her the damn sleeping pills! I cut the dress! I did it because you’re a pathetic, boring house mouse…”
Julian, still pinned to the wall, stopped struggling. He slowly turned his head to look at Serena. The betrayal in his eyes was absolute. His perfect alibi, his excuse for everything, had just confessed to orchestrating the entire nightmare.
“You… you drugged her?” Julian whispered, the realization that he had thrown away his life over a lie finally sinking in.
Before Serena could stammer out a defense, the flashing red and blue lights of local police cruisers illuminated the driveway, casting frantic shadows through the ruined doorway. Tires screeched on the pavement.
“Police! Drop your weapons!” a voice shouted from the lawn. Chief Tom Miller, a man Julian had bought expensive whiskey for just last week, stepped into the doorway, his service weapon drawn, flanked by four nervous deputies.
Julian let out a breathless, hysterical laugh of relief. “Tom! Thank God! Arrest them! They broke into my house! They’re terrorizing us!”
Chief Miller leveled his gun at Dante. “Put him down. Now.”
Dante didn’t flinch. He looked at the Chief with a dead, hollow stare.
From the back of the tactical formation, my fourth brother, Silas, stepped forward. Silas was a Federal Judge, known for his terrifyingly strict interpretation of the law. He held a thick document stamped with a heavy gold federal seal.
“Chief Miller,” Silas boomed, his voice carrying the inescapable weight of the United States justice system. He didn’t raise his hands. He calmly walked forward and pressed the document flat against the chest of the local police chief.
“This is a no-knock, federal extraction and arrest warrant,” Silas stated smoothly. “Issued for Julian Vance and Serena Cross. Charges include domestic terrorism, federal extortion, corporate embezzlement, and the aggravated assault and drugging of a minor. You have zero jurisdiction here, Chief. In fact, if you impede this federal operation, I will have your badge stripped and indict you for conspiracy before the sun comes up.”
Chief Miller looked at the warrant. He looked at the federal seal. He looked at the dozens of heavily armed, silent operators. And finally, he looked at Julian.
The Chief slowly lowered his weapon. He swallowed hard. Survival instinct kicked in.
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“I… I understand, Your Honor,” Chief Miller stammered, stepping back. He turned to his deputies. “Stand down. Let the Feds work.”
Julian’s scream of pure, unadulterated despair tore through the night as his last hope evaporated, leaving him entirely at the mercy of the gods he had unknowingly awoken.
