Chapter 6 - The Collision on Elm Street
The deafening crunch of metal and shattering glass froze everyone on the front lawn. The black SUV had plowed directly into the side of the news van, its front end crumpled like paper against the broadcaster's side panel. Car alarms wailed instantly, filling the quiet suburban air with a chaotic, screeching symphony.
Marcus stumbled as the tactical officers instinctively released their grip on his arms to reach for their sidearms.
"Get back! Get back inside!" the lead tactical officer yelled, shoving Marcus toward the open door of the police cruiser while drawing his weapon.
Officer Vance drew her service pistol, her face pale as she stared at the wrecked SUV. "What the hell is going on? Tom, call dispatch! Request backup code three!"
Miller didn't move toward the cruiser. Instead, he pulled out his radio with trembling hands, his eyes locked on the driver's side door of the black SUV, which slowly creaked open. The tinted window was shattered into a spiderweb pattern, and through the gap stepped a man in a sharp charcoal suit. Despite the violent crash, the man’s hair was immaculate, and he adjusted his silk tie with chilling composure before stepping over the debris.
Marcus watched from the backseat of the cruiser, the door left half-open. He recognized the man immediately from the evening news broadcasts—Julian Vance, a high-powered real estate developer known for buying up historic neighborhood blocks and converting them into luxury high-rises.
And more importantly, he was Officer Evelyn Vance’s older brother.
Julian glanced briefly at the burning radiator of the news van, then turned his gaze straight toward the front porch. His eyes locked onto Marcus in the cruiser, a faint, polite smile touching the corners of his mouth.
"Evelyn," Julian called out, his voice carrying clearly over the wailing car alarms. "I told you to handle this quietly. Why is the press here?"
Evelyn lowered her weapon slightly, her face flushing with embarrassment and panic. "Julian? What are you doing here? You shouldn't be on this scene—"
"I was coming to check on my investment," Julian interrupted smoothly, taking another step closer while ignoring the armed tactical officers pointing their rifles at his chest. "And it appears your team has made a complete circus out of a simple property transfer."
Marcus leaned forward against the restrictive handcuffs, his voice cutting through the noise. "It’s a land grab! He’s working with her to force me out of my home!"
The lead tactical officer turned his head, looking between Julian in the suit and Evelyn standing frozen with the evidence bag in her hand. "Officer Vance, who is this man? Do you know him?"
Evelyn swallowed hard, her professional facade crumbling rapidly. "He’s... he’s just a citizen, stand down—"
"I am her brother," Julian corrected smoothly, raising his empty hands to show he was unarmed as he walked right up to the lead officer. He reached into his jacket pocket with agonizing slowness, pulled out a gold-embossed business card, and pressed it into the officer's palm. "And I suggest you lower your weapon before you realize whose jurisdiction you're currently standing in."
Miller walked over, his face hardened into an expression of absolute disgust. He stepped between Julian and the tactical officer, slapping the business card out of Julian's hand.
"Back off, Julian," Miller growled, his voice carrying the weathered authority of a veteran cop who had seen enough corruption to smell it from a mile away. "This is an active crime scene involving fabricated evidence. You just crashed a vehicle into a civilian broadcasting van. You're going into cuffs right now."
Julian didn't flinch. He simply looked down at the card on the ground, then raised his eyes to meet Miller’s intense stare.
"You think you're the last honest cop on the force, Miller?" Julian asked softly, a dangerous edge to his polite tone. "Take a look at your partner's badge number. Then check the internal affairs database for who signed off on her transfer to this precinct three months ago."
Miller frowned, his eyes darting to Evelyn, who looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
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Before Miller could process the warning, a sharp beep echoed from the front pocket of Marcus’s pants, which the officers had left him wearing. It was an automated text message alert from his off-site cloud storage vault, displaying a single line of text on his phone screen: Public mirror link successfully generated and broadcasted to all local media outlets.
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