Before Vance could form a response, the miniature speaker on the side of the audio pack burst into life with a sharp crackle of static. A crisp, authoritative female voice echoed loudly in the stillness of the rural road:
“Unit Four-Seven-Zero, this is Regional Operations Command. Audio transmission verified and logged to secure servers. State Patrol Units Nine and Twelve, along with Special Agent Director Cross, are two miles out from your position. Deputy Vance, Officer Miller—stand down immediately and remain where you are.”
Miller’s face went completely ash-white. His hands dropped away from his belt as if his fingers had suddenly lost all strength. He took another full step backward, his boots sliding through the loose gravel on the shoulder.
“Oh God,” Miller whispered, his voice barely audible over the heat of the road. “Oh God, Vance…”
Vance stood frozen. The arrogance that had inflated his broad chest just moments ago seemed to collapse out of him all at once. His jaw worked silently, his fingers trembling slightly around the heavy gold shield. The metal felt as hot as coal in his grip. This was not a random commuter on an isolated back road. This was a targeted, live-monitored integrity operation conducting an investigation into long-standing reports of unconstitutional traffic stops and civil asset shakedowns along County Route Nine.
