Chapter 8 - The Corrupt Precinct
I slowly raised my hands in the air, keeping my eyes locked fiercely on the corrupt detective walking toward me.
He aggressively snatched the silver laptop from my desk, admiring the glowing screen with a look of pure, greedy satisfaction.
He casually told his tactical officers to secure the perimeter, making sure there were no civilian witnesses left in the cafe.
I realized with terrifying clarity that they were not planning to arrest me or take me to a jail cell.
They were planning to execute me right here in this dark corner and claim I had violently resisted arrest.
I desperately needed a massive distraction if I was going to survive the next ten seconds of my life.
I slowly lowered my hands, pretending to stumble from exhaustion, and violently kicked the main power strip under the computer desk.
The power cord for the entire row of computers ripped out of the wall, instantly plunging our corner of the cafe into complete darkness.
I grabbed a heavy cup of scalding hot coffee left by a previous customer and threw it directly into the detective's face.
It was beautifully poetic justice as he screamed in absolute agony, dropping the silver laptop onto the carpeted floor.
I snatched the laptop up and dove fiercely through the narrow gap between the tactical officers in the chaotic darkness.
I sprinted out the back emergency exit of the cafe, triggering a loud, blaring alarm that echoed through the dark alley.
I hotwired an old delivery motorcycle parked near the dumpsters, grateful for the rebellious teenage years my father had always hated.
I revved the engine loudly and sped out into the rainy streets just as the corrupt officers began firing their weapons blindly into the alley.
I navigated the slick, dangerous city streets at terrifying speeds, weaving expertly through the heavy, late-night traffic.
I checked my encrypted phone and saw a confirmed message from the cartel stating that Victoria had been safely dropped off.
I now possessed the original security footage clearing my name, the financial documents proving Arthur's guilt, and the evidence exposing the corrupt police.
I just needed to physically deliver this massive trove of evidence to the federal authorities located on the other side of town.
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I turned onto the massive suspension bridge leading to the federal district, feeling a tremendous surge of victorious hope.
Suddenly, a massive black armored vehicle aggressively slammed into the side of my motorcycle, sending me skidding violently across the wet asphalt.
