Chapter 4 - The Turn of the Iron Tide
The convoy didn't merely slow down; it executed an aggressive, coordinated tactical stop, surrounding the sidewalk curb in a tight semi-circle that completely blocked the street.
The heavy doors of the armored SUVs flew open simultaneously. Six armed military police officers in tactical gear stepped out, their boots striking the pavement in synchronized precision as they formed a secure perimeter around the side street. Victor’s enforcer in the denim jacket instantly raised his hands, his face draining of all color as he took three panicked steps backward against a light pole.
Victor stood frozen, his mouth half-open, his wire-rimmed glasses sliding slightly down his nose as he turned his head in utter, disoriented terror.
From the rear passenger door of the lead SUV stepped a towering, broad-shouldered officer dressed in a pristine olive-drab dress uniform. Across his chest pinned rows of service ribbons, and on his shoulders gleamed four silver stars—a full General of the United States Army.
The General’s face was stone, his eyes sharp as flint as he swept his gaze across the sidewalk. He ignored the flashing lights, the armed guards, and the terrified bureaucrat in the trench coat, walking directly toward the red-brick wall with heavy, deliberate strides.
As the General approached, his eyes fell upon the navy-blue cap lying upside down in the dust, with the silver quarter resting inside it. A dark, dangerous anger flickered across the General’s features. He stopped three feet from Victor, his physical presence looming over the auditor like an immovable mountain.
Victor swallowed hard, his throat dry as he scrambled to find his voice. "G-General... sir! This is a private administrative matter regarding—"
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The General didn't even acknowledge Victor's existence. He turned his head toward Arthur, drew his heels together with a sharp click, raised his right hand to his brow, and delivered a crisp, flawless military salute.
"Master Sergeant Balleson," the General said, his voice echoing off the brick walls with thunderous authority. "The Pentagon has been searching for you for forty-eight hours."
