"PRECINCT IS SURROUNDED. THIS IS STATE POLICE SPECIAL TACTICAL COMMAND. ALL COUNTY OFFICERS LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND EXIT THROUGH THE FRONT ENTRANCE WITH YOUR HANDS RAISED."Inside the bullpen, Clara Miller didn't hesitate. She threw open the front doors, stepped out onto the concrete landing with her hands held high above her head, and dropped immediately to her knees on the wet pavement.Two tactical operators in full black assault kit, equipped with suppressed carbines and night-vision gear, moved up the steps fluidly, securing her with zip-ties and guiding her gently out of the line of fire."Where is Chief Vance?" the lead operator demanded through his communications headset."Basement!" Miller gasped, pointing back into the open doors. "Cell Three! Higgins went down with a gun!"Before the tactical team could breach the threshold, the heavy fire door leading to the cellar swung open from the inside.Out walked Marcus Vance.He looked completely unhurried. His canvas field coat was open, revealing his broad chest and the scuffed denim of his jeans. In his left hand, he carried a confiscated duty belt. Behind him, looking like a pair of broken street thugs, came Deputy Bell, desperately hauling the groaning, blood-drenched bulk of Sergeant Ray Higgins by the collar of his uniform.The point operator on the tactical team raised his rifle, then froze as his weapon-mounted light illuminated Marcus’s face."Chief on deck!" the operator barked, his voice snapping over the tactical radio channel. "Hold perimeter! Chief is secure! Chief is in command!"Ten tactical operators immediately lowered their carbines to low-ready, snapping their boots together in sharp, rigid formation.From between the armored vehicles in the parking lot strode Colonel David Vance, commander of the State Police Special Operations Division. He was two years older than Marcus, taller by an inch, his jawline identical, wearing the dark blue service blouse and gold eagles of a full state colonel.David walked up the stone steps, taking in the scene with a slow, sardonic grin. He looked at Marcus’s bruised knuckles, then down at Higgins, who was sobbing into the floorboards, his nose flattened across his face."You look like hell, little brother," David said, extending a heavy leather-gloved hand.Marcus gripped his brother’s forearm in a firm, soldier's clasp. "The ventilation in Cell Three was sub-standard, David. I’m docking the county’s maintenance budget.""We took the perimeter five minutes ago," David reported, stepping aside as four state troopers moved in to take custody of Higgins and Bell. "The river bridge is locked down. The local magistrate, Judge Holloway, was picked up at his hunting lodge twenty minutes ago trying to burn three ledgers in his fireplace. State auditors are already inside his safe.""And the Mayor?" Marcus asked, his voice hardening."Right behind me," David replied, gesturing toward the second BearCat.Two state troopers marched Silas Cole up the precinct steps.The proud, untouchable monarch of Blackwood County was gone. His expensive charcoal suit was soaked with rain and caked in gravel from when the troopers had pulled him from his Lincoln Navigator. His silver hair was plastered wild across his forehead, his tie torn, his diamond-encrusted wristwatch hanging broken from his cuff."This is an illegal military occupation!" Cole shrieked, struggling against the iron grip of the troopers holding his arms. "I am an elected municipal executive! You have no constitutional warrant to enter this building!"Marcus Vance took three slow, measured steps until he was standing six inches from Cole’s face.The sheer physical presence of the new Chief seemed to suck the oxygen from the air. Cole’s bluster died in his throat, his eyes darting frantically to Higgins, who was being dragged past him on the floor, bleeding like a slaughtered hog.Marcus reached into Higgins’s open breast pocket.
THE RECKONING OF BLACKWOOD: A SHADOW IN CELL THREE
Chapter 9
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