Chapter 4 - The Ambush at the Curb
The black sedan slammed on its brakes just ten feet from the blue vintage pickup, kicking up a thick cloud of dust and gravel from the suburban driveway. Two men in identical charcoal-grey suits stepped out of the vehicle simultaneously, their movements mechanical and rehearsed. Neither of them wore police badges, but both kept their right hands resting casually inside their suit jackets near their waistlines.
Officer Miller’s hands locked onto the steering wheel, his knuckles turning pure white. “Who are those guys? They aren't local enforcement.”
“Federal Marshals assigned to internal affairs, or at least they’re wearing the uniform,” Marcus muttered, keeping his head down below the dashboard level. “Vance didn't just want the truck moved; he wanted it searched before I could access the comms relay hidden in the dashboard.”
One of the men in suits walked deliberately toward the tow truck driver, flashing a leather folio badge. The tow driver immediately threw his hands up in a defensive gesture, unhooked the hydraulic chains from the vintage bumper, and scrambled back into his cab, speeding away without looking back.
Miller looked at Marcus with sheer panic in his eyes. “They’re taking the truck, Marcus. What do we do? If I try to stop them, I’ll be committing a felony.”
“You won't stop them,” Marcus said, pulling a small, encrypted thumb drive out of his pocket. “We let them take it. But not before we drop a tracker in their wheel well.”
Marcus popped open the glove box, rummaged through a pile of old insurance papers, and pulled out a magnetic GPS tracking pod. He looked at Miller with absolute seriousness. “Pop your door, roll out low, and slip this onto the rear axle of that black sedan while I distract them.”
Miller swallowed hard, sweat dripping from his chin. “Are you out of your mind? They’ll shoot us.”
“They won't shoot a uniformed officer in broad daylight on a residential street,” Marcus whispered fiercely. “They’re operatives, not cartel executioners. They operate in the shadows. Do it now!”
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Miller pushed his door open and rolled onto the grass, crawling stealthily toward the rear of the black sedan while the two suit-wearing men were busy arguing with the tow driver about why he left.
Marcus watched through the cruiser's windshield, holding his breath as Miller reached the back tire. The officer slapped the magnetic pod onto the metal axle just as one of the suits turned around and shouted directly at the cruiser.
“Officer! Step out of the vehicle with your hands visible!”
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Miller scrambled backward, diving back into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut. He threw the cruiser into reverse, tires spinning against the asphalt as the black sedan began to reverse as well, towing the blue vintage truck away into the afternoon traffic.
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