Chapter 9 - The Final Verdict

The single gunshot from my Sig Sauer was deafening in the enclosed steel warehouse.
The bullet traveled at over one thousand feet per second, missing Amelia’s ear by less than an inch, and struck the cylinder of Vance’s revolver with pinpoint, impossible accuracy. The kinetic force of the high-velocity round completely shattered the gun in his hand, sending metal fragments into his forearm and tearing the weapon away from him.
Vance screamed, clutching his bloody hand as he stumbled backward, tripping over a desk before crashing heavily onto the office floor.
Amelia collapsed to her knees, hyperventilating, staring down at the shattered remains of the gun that had just been an inch from her face.
Within seconds, FBI agents flooded the balcony. Vance was slammed face-first into the floor, his hands brutally cuffed behind his back as he groaned in agony. Amelia was pulled to her feet, her hands instantly secured in heavy steel zip-ties.
"Logan! No! You can't do this to me!" she shrieked as an agent dragged her toward the stairs. "I’m your wife! We have a contract!"
"The contract was breached the moment you signed my death warrant, Amelia," I said, standing perfectly still as she was led past me. She looked at my black tactical uniform, the medals on my vest, the absolute lack of pity in my eyes, and she finally realized that the man she had mocked was a king she could never hope to understand.
Admiral Brooks walked up beside me, tapping my shoulder. "Excellent shooting, Master Chief. The asset recovery team has secured the logistics files. The entire county syndicate is dead in the water. By morning, the state governor is appointing an interim sheriff, and the Department of Justice is seizing every asset tied to the Vance and Vale families."
"Thank you, Admiral," I said, removing my helmet and letting the cool night air hit my face. "What happens to her?"
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"Title 18 federal espionage and conspiracy to traffic Class-A narcotics," Brooks said grimly. "She’s looking at a mandatory minimum of twenty-five years in a maximum-security facility. She won't be seeing the Montana sky for a very long time."
I nodded, watching the flashing red and blue lights of fifty federal vehicles illuminating the dark pine forest outside. The diner had been silent this afternoon. But tonight, the entire state was screaming.