Chapter 8 - The First Target Discovers His World Crashing Down
Cole’s muscle car tore through the suburban streets, the engine screaming as they approached his family’s gated estate.
He slammed his foot on the brakes, sliding to a halt in front of the grand wrought-iron security gates of his driveway.
“Open the gate! Hurry up and punch the access code in!” Cole yelled frantically at Hale in the back seat.
Hale punched the digital keypad repeatedly, but the screen flashed a harsh red warning: Access Denied – Property Under Federal Seizure.
“It’s locked! The keypad says the house has been seized by federal authorities!” Hale shouted in sheer panic.
“That’s impossible! My father owns this entire subdivision!” Cole screamed, leaping out of the car to pound on the iron bars.
The massive estate lights remained dark, and the security cameras mounted on the pillars blinked with a strange, offline amber glow.
Whitmore stepped out of the back seat, his legs trembling so violently he could barely stand on the asphalt driveway.
“We’re finished, Cole. Look around us—there are no cars, no guards, nothing. We’ve been completely cut off,” Whitmore sobbed.
Suddenly, the headlights of an unmarked black SUV cut through the darkness, illuminating the front of their stalled muscle car.
The vehicle parked squarely behind them, blocking any possibility of reversing back down the residential cul-de-sac.
The driver’s side door opened slowly, and the rugged silhouette of the tattooed father emerged into the harsh glare.
Cole froze, his breath catching in his throat as he recognized the dark green button-down shirt and cold, piercing eyes.
“You… how did you find us this fast? Who the hell are you?” Cole stammered, stumbling backward against his car door.
The father didn't answer immediately; he walked forward with slow, deliberate footsteps that sounded like ticking doom.
“You thought wearing a varsity jacket and hiding behind your father’s money made you untouchable,” the father said quietly.
“My dad will sue you into the Stone Age! You can’t touch us here!” Cole yelled, trying to summon false courage.
“Your father is currently answering federal grand jury questions about corporate fraud, Cole. He can’t help you now,” the father replied.
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The reality of their utter isolation crashed down upon Cole like a physical blow, stripping away every shred of his arrogance.
He looked toward the street for help, but the entire neighborhood remained dead silent, as if holding its breath for what was coming.
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