Griggs felt a cold stone drop in his gut, but he was in too deep to back down now. His ego, fragile and bloated, refused to let a civilian speak to him this way.
"I don't care what kind of toy cameras you think you have!" he yelled, leaning in closer, trying to use his sheer mass to force her to cower. "I am the law out here! I write the report! Nobody is going to believe you over me!"
Evelyn held his gaze. "We will see about that."
Fifteen miles away, beneath the sleek glass exterior of a high-rise in the financial district, the Aegis Global Tactical Operations Center was bathed in the cool, blue light of dozens of monitors.
Agent Marcus Vance sat at the central command console. He wore a crisp, midnight-blue suit, his headset secured over one ear. The room was a fortress of silent, lethal efficiency. To the uninitiated, Aegis Global was a corporate security firm. To those in the know, it was a private army, possessing technology and operational capabilities that rivaled federal intelligence agencies.
Suddenly, a severe, high-pitched alarm sliced through the quiet hum of the control room.
The main holographic display on the center table flashed crimson.
ALERT: ASSET ALPHA - KINETIC IMPACT DETECTED. LOCATION: SECTOR 4, ROUTE 9 INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR. STATUS: VEHICLE IMMOBILIZED.
Vance’s hands flew across his keyboard. "We have a Code Red on Asset Alpha," he announced, his voice carrying clearly across the room. "Telemetry indicates a rear-end collision at forty-five miles per hour. Airbag deployment confirmed. Biometrics show an elevated heart rate, but she is conscious and ambulatory."
"Pulling up external feeds," another agent called out from the back row.
A grid of video feeds appeared on the main screen, pulled directly from the hidden cameras embedded in Evelyn's Camry. The high-definition night-vision lenses cut through the rain and darkness, displaying the crumpled front end of a police cruiser and the aggressive, shouting figure of Officer Griggs.
Vance narrowed his eyes, analyzing the audio feed that was streaming live into his headset. He heard Griggs’s voice: "...I'll write you up for reckless driving..."
"We have a hostile local law enforcement element on site," Vance said, his tone icy. "He's attempting to intimidate the CEO."
The Director of Security, a scarred veteran named Sterling, stepped up behind Vance’s chair. He looked at the screen, observing the way Evelyn was standing—arms crossed, completely unbothered, buying them time.
"She's holding him in play," Sterling noted grimly. "She wants a show of force. Mobilize the Leviathan Protocol. I want a full tactical extraction and perimeter lockdown."
"Rolling the heavy cavalry," Vance confirmed, punching a final command into his terminal.
Down in the subterranean garage of the Aegis building, the darkness was suddenly shattered by the simultaneous ignition of heavy engines. Eleven Chevrolet Tahoe SUVs, painted in an abyssal, light-absorbing matte black, roared to life. These were not standard vehicles; they were rolling fortresses, equipped with Level B6 ballistic armor, run-flat tires, and reinforced ramming bumpers.