Chương 29: Chapter 28: Shifting Tactics

As we drew closer to the center of town, the heavy rumble of the Suburban's modified V8 engine started bouncing off the dark, quiet houses, and it was getting on my nerves. In a town this dead, a block away sounded like it was right outside your window. The moment I banked the wheel off 4th onto J Street, I threw the transmission shift lever into neutral and turned the key to the off position. The engine cut instantly, leaving us gliding in complete, heavy silence.

I was just hoping the residual momentum would be enough to carry our bulk all the way down the street to the alleyway mouth. Fortunately, the weight of the truck worked in our favor. The tires rolled smoothly into the unlit alley behind the nail salon, coming to a dead stop roughly fifteen feet from the main street entrance. Nobody moved.

For thirty long seconds, the four of us just sat in the dark cab, breathing quietly, straining our ears to hear if the heavy vehicle had drawn anyone's attention toward our position. Outside, the night was dead still. Satisfied that the coast was clear, we cracked the heavy doors and slipped out into the humid evening air. I immediately activated my [Sneak] skill, keeping my back pinned against the salon's wooden fence line.

The shadows completely swallowed my silhouette as I began moving methodically toward the courthouse boundary. Behind me, Joe, Pete, and Johnny broke off in the opposite direction, keeping their heads down as they silently crept toward the front porch of the old storage house. I rounded the brick corner of the historic courthouse and pressed forward until I reached my designated observation post.

Dog tracked directly in my footsteps, sticking to the deep shadows with the exact same fluid, low-profile discipline he'd displayed back in the alleyway when we saved the girl. It was still wild to watch—the beast instinctively understood how to mask his footprint in the dark. We both slipped into the cluster of thick ornamental bushes and palm trees at the edge of the brickwork, dropping into a low crouch to survey the secure yard. To my genuine surprise, the rear lot wasn't empty.

Two uniformed officers were standing right in the center of the asphalt, talking in low tones. To be honest, up until this exact second, I hadn't truly believed anyone would still be actively manning the station. I focused my eyes on the pair, pulling their details through the interface: [Race: Human | Level: 6 | Class: Enforcer] [Race: Human | Level: 5 | Class: Enforcer] They were young kids, both in their early twenties, and their faces didn't ring a single bell.

They had to be new hires who rotated onto the force well after I'd taken my retirement. I reached down to my vest, keyed my radio mic very softly, and alerted Joe to the threat.

"We've got a pair of active eyes in the lot."

"How close are they to our insertion point?" Joe's voice crackled quietly in my earpiece.

"Roughly seventy-five yards from the back door of the house, holding position close to the steel cargo containers," I whispered back.

"It's your operational call." A brief pause cleared the static before Joe responded.

"It's still a green light. Even if we can only successfully secure the surplus tactical armor and equipment from inside the house, that's still a massive upgrade over what we rucked in with. Keep eyes on."

"Copy that," I murmured.

"Maintaining watch." A few minutes ticked by in absolute silence. Then, Joe's voice signaled in my ear, letting me know their three-man stack had successfully breached the front door and cleared into the interior of the storage house. From my vantage point across the lot, the two young enforcers didn't show a single sign of alertness; the initial entry had been executed flawlessly.

I was just starting to relax, thinking the entire operation was going to be a textbook walk in the park, when a loud, echoing, metallic crash shattered the quiet of the neighborhood. The sound blasted straight out from the open windows of the storage house. Out in the lot, both officers snapped their heads toward the building, their bodies instantly shifting into an alert posture.

"What the hell was that?" I radioed sharply, my eyes locking onto the targets.

"The kid just lost his footing and tripped over a stack of surplus storage boxes," Joe sighed over the static, his voice laced with pure annoyance.

"Well, look sharp," I warned, watching the two enforcers start pacing deliberately toward the back yard.

"You're about to have company on your back porch." The two young officers were moving quickly across the asphalt now, though neither of them had drawn their sidearms yet. They just thought they were investigating a standard scavenger or a rogue raccoon. Knowing the clock had just run out, I decided to shift our tactics and dictate the terms of the engagement. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

While the enforcers were focused entirely on the rear of the house, Dog and I slipped out of the bushes, rapidly covering the distance to the iron walk-through gate. I punched the mechanical buttons into the keypad with practiced muscle memory, and with a soft click, the heavy latch freed. We slipped through the frame like ghosts, quietly stalking the officers' rear flanks as they approached the building.

The two enforcers reached the back door of the storage house, testing the heavy handle only to find the deadbolt fully thrown and secured from the inside. Realizing they couldn't force the panel, they pivoted, preparing to track down the side walkway to check the front yard. By then, I had already bridged the gap, stacking up tightly against the concrete corner of the detached garage. I raised my HK, extending my arms into a solid, two-handed firing stance.

I deliberately cocked the hammer, letting the sharp, mechanical click cut through the quiet night air.

"Don't move a muscle," I said, my voice dropping to a low, gravelly authority. I purposely avoided using the classic, cliché command of"Freeze" because, given the sheer absurdity of the situation, I probably would have started laughing. The second the words left my mouth, Dog dropped his weight by two inches and let out his trademark, terrifyingly deep rumble. That guttural vibration did far more work than the sound of my firearm.

Both of the young enforcers froze dead in their tracks, their hands hovering inches away from their duty holsters. Before they could even process the threat at their back, the rear door of the storage house swung inward, and the black, cold barrel of Joe's AR-15 thrust directly into the lead officer's face. Keeping my sights leveled at the center of their backs, I issued clear, concise instructions.

"Alright, boys, we're going to run this drill exactly like your tactical instructors taught you at the academy during standard felony cuffing procedures. Get your hands up where I can see them and face completely away from my position. If either of your hands so much as twitches toward your waistline, you will be shot. Officer on the left—take five deliberate steps backward toward the sound of my voice. The second you hit your mark, drop straight to your knees."

The kid on the left swallowed hard, following the script perfectly. He paced backward five steps and sank onto his knees on the asphalt. I glanced over at Joe, who was still holding his rifle barrel perfectly centered on the remaining enforcer's nose, a wide, confident grin plastered across his face as he gave me a quick wink.

"You got his compliance locked down, Joe?" I asked.

"Sure do," Joe rumbled, his smile widening as the standing officer stared at him in sheer terror. I stepped up behind the kneeling enforcer, ordering him to tightly interlace his fingers on top of his head. The second his hands were locked in place, I holstered my weapon, stepped into his space, and grabbed his fingers to pin his leverage. Reaching down to his own duty belt, I unclipped his personal pair of handcuffs.

There was absolutely no sense in wasting my own gear when the department was providing a free pair for the evening. I snapped the cuff around his right wrist, executing a standard compliance twist to bring his arm down securely behind his back. Keeping his weight broken, I reached up, grabbed his left hand, and forced it down to meet the steel, clicking the double-locks home.

I went through the exact same sequence with the second officer, and within ninety seconds, both enforcers were fully secured and sitting flat on the asphalt. I stepped around to face them, looking down at their pale faces.

"How many personnel are currently inside the main building?" Neither of them said a word, choosing to stare straight ahead into the dark yard. I let out a slow breath, sinking down into a low squat until I was at direct eye level with both of them. Reaching down to my tactical rig, I smoothly drew my custom skinning knife, the polished steel catching the faint moonlight. The lead enforcer's eyes darted to the blade, his jaw tightening.

"Look, man... I know your face from the old department plaques. You used to be a cop here. You aren't planning to actually hurt us, so why should we give you any details?" I didn't argue. Instead, I reached out with my left hand, firmly gripping the back of his his head, and rested the flat edge of the skinning blade directly against his right cheek. I applied just enough calculated pressure to draw a tiny, pencil-thin line across his skin. A single droplet of dark blood welled up along the steel.

"You're completely right," I said, my voice entirely devoid of emotion.

"I was a cop. I spent years putting my life on the line for a bunch of random strangers who didn't even appreciate the sacrifice. But right now, the world has fundamentally rewritten the rules. I am trying to secure the raw resources necessary to ensure my family survives. And if I was willing to lay my life down for complete strangers, I want you to think very carefully about exactly how far I am willing to go to protect my own flesh and blood."

I leaned in a fraction of an inch closer, letting him feel the cold weight of the blade.

"Be realistic here, boys. This isn't a television show or a fantasy novel where you miraculously defy the bad guy and save the day. The grid is gone. Now, I am going to ask you one final time—how many bodies are inside that brick building?" The kid's stoic expression completely broke, his chest heaving as he stared at the knife.

"Just one," he stammered, his voice shaking.

"There's only one guy inside."

"Good," I nodded, pulling the blade back but keeping my posture tight.

"Give me a name. Who is it?"

"Commander Vance," the second officer blurted out, desperate to clear the tension. My brow furrowed in immediate disgust.

"TJ Vance? Someone actually promoted that absolute jack-wagon to Commander?" The two kneeling enforcers glanced at one another, a brief, involuntary smirk breaking through their fear. It was clear Vance wasn't exactly a beloved leader among the rank and file. I reached down to the lead officer's utility belt, unhooked his master key ring, and pitched the metal ring across the asphalt toward Johnny.

"The oversized square key on that ring unlocks the manual override on the driveway gate. Go grab the Suburban, bring it through the perimeter, and back it straight up to the house entrance so we can start loading the crates." Johnny caught the keys with a quick nod, spinning on his heel to execute the order. I turned my attention back to the two captives to squeeze out the rest of the intelligence.

"Alright, let's keep this conversation rolling," I started, leaning against the garage wall.

"Who's actually running operations in the city center then? Because I know for a fact it isn't TJ." Both officers nodded in agreement.

"Chief handles most things from his residence," the lead kid said.

"Vance just stays here because he loves having the title."

"Oh, I'm sure he's absolutely loving the authority," I scoffed.

"And what's your total active headcount in the area right now?"

"About ten of us total," the second enforcer answered honestly.

"If we can actually manage to get everyone coordinated and in the same sector at the same time."

"And let me guess," I offered, a dry smile breaking across my face as I gestured toward the massive cargo containers behind them.

"Since you two pull the lowest slots on the seniority roster, Vance stuck you out here in the dark to play security guard over the ammunition reserves." Both of the young enforcers looked down at the concrete, offering a silent, completely defeated nod.