Chapter 4 - The Repo Men
David froze entirely in the blinding headlights of the massive black tactical vehicles.
Four very large men wearing dark, heavy winter gear stepped out onto the snowy driveway with grim expressions.
David immediately raised his hands high in surrender, assuming they were the federal agents coming to arrest him.
The lead man did not pull out a shiny police badge or a pair of steel handcuffs.
Instead, he reached into the back of his vehicle and pulled out a heavy steel tow chain and a motorized winch control.
"Are you David Miller?" the large man asked in a deep, gravelly voice that carried over the howling wind.
David nodded frantically, his teeth chattering violently in the freezing mountain air.
The man handed David a laminated legal document stamped with a bright, intimidating red notary seal.
"We are here to officially repossess the luxury SUV you are currently driving."
"The primary financial buyer has formally defaulted on the agreed payment arrangement."
David stared at the legal paper in a state of absolute, mind-numbing confusion.
"My wife’s sister bought that car for us entirely in cash," David argued weakly, trying to push the paper back.
The large man laughed a deep, incredibly cruel laugh that echoed through the pine trees.
"She leased it under your name, and she just canceled the automatic payments an hour ago."
I sat in my warm apartment three hundred miles away and took a highly satisfying sip of hot coffee.
I had stopped paying for their lavish entitlement the exact second they arrogantly kicked me out of my own house.
David watched helplessly as the brutal men hooked his only means of escape to a massive, industrial tow truck.
They drove away into the dark, snowy night, leaving David completely stranded in the freezing, isolated mountains.
He tried to climb back up the icy drainage pipe, but the cold metal was far too slick with fresh snow.
He was locked out in the brutal winter cold, completely isolated from any form of civilization or rescue.
Inside the house, my father had finally managed to pry open a large section of the expensive drywall.
He was desperately looking for the main data cable to physically sever the smart-home connection from the mainframe.
Instead of finding colorful wires, his bloody hands pulled out a heavy, black titanium lockbox hidden in the insulation.
My father's eyes widened with intense greed, entirely forgetting about the freezing temperature of the room.
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He smashed the lockbox open with his hammer, fully expecting to find my emergency cash reserves or gold.
Inside the box was a single, ringing burner phone with a glowing green screen displaying an unknown caller ID.
