onto Arthur's face, awaiting his next order. His side heaved with heavy breaths, and a
slight tremor ran through his back legs where the boot had connected, but he did not
move a single inch.
The display of absolute discipline was awe-inspiring. A dog that had been brutally
attacked had overridden his survival instinct simply because his handler commanded
it.
Arthur did not look at the dog. He slowly pushed himself up from the booth. He stood
at six-foot-two, his broad shoulders blocking the morning light from the window.
When he finally turned his gaze to Sheriff Vance, the look in his eyes was not anger.
It was the calculated, lethal calm of a man who had seen real monsters, and found the
man standing before him severely wanting.
Trthur stepped out of the booth, closing the distance between himself and the
sheriff. Vance, realizing the immediate physical threat of the dog had passed,
tried to regain his false bravado. He puffed out his chest, though his hand still
hovered nervously near his holster.
"That animal is dangerous!" Vance shouted, his voice cracking slightly. "It tried to
attack a law enforcement officer. I have the right to put it down!"
Arthur leaned in close. His voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried to every corner
of the silent diner. "You kicked a decorated military veteran sitting peacefully under a
table. If Kodiak wanted to attack you, Sheriff, you would already be on the floor, and
I would be applying a tourniquet to save your life. Do not mistake his discipline for
your safety."
Vance swallowed hard, stepping back.
"You abused your badge," Arthur continued, his tone methodical and relentless. "You
assaulted a service animal. You drew a weapon in a crowded restaurant full of
families." Arthur pulled out a small notepad from his breast pocket. "I don't need your
badge number, Vance. I know it. But I want you to look around this room."
Vance darted his eyes around the diner. Every single patron had stood up.
he people of Oakhaven were generally quiet folks who minded their own
business. But they had limits.
At a table near the window, a young college student named Marcus was holding up
his smartphone. The little red recording dot had been blinking since the argument
his vicious dog to attack me. I had to defend myself, and now the whole diner is