Chapter 3 - The General’s Prerogative
The paramedics moved with practiced precision. Within thirty seconds, Leo was secured on a spinal board, an oxygen mask placed gently over his small face, and hoisted into the back of the waiting ambulance.
I climbed in right behind him, my hand resting firmly on his small, uninjured shoulder.
Before the heavy doors could swing shut, Chief Miller scrambled forward, clutching the side of the ambulance like a drowning man grasping at driftwood. He was still kneeling in the dust, his face slick with cold sweat, his hat having fallen off to reveal a bald spot turning bright red in the July sun.
“General... please,” Miller begged, his voice cracking with humiliation as half the neighborhood watched from behind their cell phone screens. “My career... thirty years on the force... my daughter, she didn't realize—please, we can handle this quietly—”
I looked down at the man who had terrorized my family for three years, calling me a "failure soldier" while he pocketed kickbacks from local construction contracts and protected his toxic, entitled children.
“Quietly?” I asked, a dangerous, humorless smile touching the corner of my lips. “Chief Miller, you just committed a federal offense by interfering with a military deployment detail and blocking emergency medical services for a United States service member's dependent. And your daughter committed felony assault.”
I turned to the rookie officer standing nearest the ambulance doors.
“Officer,” I commanded, my voice carrying absolute, undeniable weight.
“Ma'am! Yes, General!” the young cop snapped to attention, instinctively executing a crisp salute.
“Place Chief Miller and civilian Sarah Jenkins under arrest. Confiscate all personal cell phones and security cameras on this property. Secure the perimeter. By order of the Department of Defense, this entire estate is now a federal investigative site.”
“Right away, General!”
Sarah shrieked in absolute horror as the rookie officer grabbed her arm and slapped steel handcuffs around her wrists. “Dad! Do something! Make them stop! You’re the chief!”
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Miller didn't answer. He slumped forward into the dirt, staring blankly at the grass as his empire crumbled into dust in less than five minutes.
I pulled the ambulance doors shut, cutting off their pathetic wails, and told the driver to head to St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital.
