"By me," a calm voice called out from the bench.
Chief Sterling snapped his head around to face Zariah. He looked at her worn coat, her dark hair, and the dark red mark on her cheek. A sneer of absolute disgust curled across his face.
"You?" Sterling spat, taking two aggressive steps toward her. "You're that lingering trash Boon was supposed to sweep out of here weeks ago. What did you do, call in a fake bomb threat to waste police resources? Where is Travis?!"
"Officer Boon is sitting behind that cruiser in plastic restraints, Chief," Zariah said, slowly standing up from the bench. "And he's currently contemplating a thirty-year sentence in a federal penitentiary for grand extortion, conspiracy to traffic controlled substances, and assaulting a federal officer."
Sterling’s face turned from red to an unhealthy shade of purple. He reached instinctively for the holster at his hip. "You crazy piece of—"
"I wouldn't touch that weapon, Chief Sterling," General Marcus Monroe's voice thundered from the treeline.
Before Sterling could even unsnap his holster latch, six federal agents materialized from the shadows, their rifles trained squarely on his chest. Red laser dots danced across the gold buttons of the Chief's formal police dress uniform.