Chapter 7 - The Dawn Raid
At 0530 hours, the quiet luxury of the Prescott estate was shattered by the deafening roar of flashbang grenades and the hydraulic ram slamming through the carved oak front doors.
Dozens of heavily armed FBI HRT agents and state troopers swarmed the ten-acre compound. Helicopters hovered overhead, blinding the estate in white spotlight beams.
I stepped out of the command vehicle parked in the circle driveway, watching as federal agents dragged Brandon Prescott out the front door in his pajamas, his hands cuffed behind his back as he screamed obscenities at the officers.
Inside the grand foyer, Margaret Prescott stood at the bottom of the curved marble staircase. She was wearing a red silk robe, her hands held high as three FBI agents pointed rifles at her chest.
"Margaret Prescott," Prosecutor Miller stepped into the foyer, reading from a legal document. "You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit RICO violations, human trafficking, witness tampering, and obstruction of justice."
Margaret didn't look at Miller. Her eyes locked onto me as I walked through the ruined doorway, my military boots stepping over the shattered glass of her expensive grand entrance.
"You..." she spat, her voice trembling with pure venom. "You destroyed my family. You destroyed forty years of legacy!"
"No, Margaret," I said, stopping a few feet from her as an agent clicked steel cuffs onto her wrists. "Your arrogance destroyed your family. You thought your money made you a queen, and you thought my daughter was a nobody you could crush under your heel."
She leaned forward, trying to maintain her dignity despite the steel resting on her wrists. "I have millions in reserve, Victoria. I will buy the best lawyers in the world. I will be out on bail by noon!"
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"There won't be any bail, Margaret," Prosecutor Miller interjected smoothly. "The judge signed an emergency asset freezing order thirty minutes ago. Every bank account, every property, and every offshore trust connected to your name has been seized by the United States government. You are bankrupt."
The color drained completely from Margaret’s face. The icy, untouchable queen of Charlotte society finally realized that the ground beneath her feet had turned to dust.
