Chapter 9 - The Federal Raid
High-pitched sirens suddenly echoed through the streets above the parking garage—not just two or three, but dozens of them, accompanied by the heavy thumping rotors of military-grade helicopters circling low over Oak Park.
The global broadcast I had triggered minutes earlier had already ignited an unprecedented, international firestorm.
Dozens of state police cruisers, federal marshal vehicles, and tactical SWAT vans swarmed into the 5th Street Parking Garage, their blinding floodlights illuminating the dark concrete levels.
Armed agents in tactical vests bearing DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE and STATE POLICE emblems poured out of the vehicles, weapons raised, securing the perimeter.
"DROP YOUR WEAPONS! COVER THE EXITS! SECURE THE MEDICAL VAN!" an officer shouted through a megaphone.
Harrison Vance was dragged from the floor by two federal agents, his face pale with agony, his hands cuffed tightly behind his back as he screamed threats at his captors.
"You can't arrest me!" Vance screamed, his voice echoing pathetically against the concrete walls. "I have immunity! I report directly to the Board!"
"Not anymore, Dr. Vance," a stern federal agent replied, shoving him into the back of a reinforced police transport. "Your global servers just published every client list you've ever had. You don't have a Board left."
Paramedics rushed into the garage with stretchers.
I sat on the bumper of an ambulance, holding Sarah’s hand tightly as a medic checked her vitals. A second medical team emerged from the utility stairs carrying Evelyn on a stretcher—she was severely injured, but a gentle pulse oxygen monitor on her finger confirmed she was still breathing, her life saved by the rapid arrival of the federal response team.
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As the paramedics wheeled Evelyn toward an advanced trauma unit, she looked over at me, giving a faint, exhausted nod of gratitude.
The nightmare of Oak Park was finally bursting open into the daylight.
