Chapter 10 - The Sovereign Checkmate
CRACK-FLASH!
Blinding white light and deafening concussive shockwaves flooded the room. Senator Marcus Vance stumbled backward, blinded and disoriented, his hands flying to his ears as the heavy metal jammer slipped from his grasp and clattered onto the hardwood floor.
"Federal Law Enforcement! Nobody move!"
Special Agent Howard Gillespie and six heavily armed Secret Service operatives swarmed through the shattered windows and doorways, their tactical boots hitting the floor in a synchronized wave of absolute dominance. Two operatives slammed Vance against the wall, their weapons training on his chest as steel handcuffs ratcheted tightly around his wrists.
Vance struggled against the grip, his face twisted in sudden, frantic fury as he glared past the agents toward Dorothy.
"You set me up," Vance snarled, spittle flying from his lips. "You lured me here with a fake dead-man's switch! You have no legal jurisdiction to detain a sitting federal senator without a congressional warrant!"
Dorothy remained seated on the couch, calmly adjusting her cardigan. She reached down, picked up the metal jammer Vance had dropped, and tossed it gently onto the coffee table.
"Marcus, you always underestimated the value of cross-agency jurisdiction," Dorothy said, her voice cutting through his protests like a scalpel. "The dead-man's switch wasn't a trap for your servers. It was a beacon for the federal grand jury that signed your indictment three hours ago."
Gillespie stepped forward, holding an official Department of Justice arrest warrant right in front of Vance’s face, reading the charges with cold, clinical satisfaction.
Vance’s face drained of all color, the arrogant veneer finally shattering completely as he realized his empire had just collapsed into dust. As the agents hauled him toward the broken doorway, he cast one last, venomous look back at the room.
May you like
Dorothy watched him go without emotion. Then, she turned her gaze toward the empty doorway, her expression shifting from relief to a sudden, chilling realization.
The front porch light flickered once, twice, and died—plunging the entire property into total darkness just as a sharp, rhythmic tapping echoed from the master bedroom window at the back of the house.
