The reinforced glass doors exploded inward under the battering ram's impact. Agents poured through, weapons raised. Everyone freeze. Hands where we can see them. Ruiz's voice cut through the panic.
Step away from the shredders. Move. Accountants stumbled back from their desks, hands raised. Loose papers fluttered to the marble floor like leaves in autumn. The CEO's secretary lunged for her computer's power button, but an agent grabbed her wrist.
Cyber team, secure those terminals, Ruiz commanded. Tech specialists rushed to workstations, plugging in devices to prevent remote wiping. Nobody touches anything. In the corner office, they found CEO Richard Maxwell frantically typing commands, trying to trigger an emergency server purge. A cyber agent shouldered him aside, fingers flying across the keyboard to interrupt the deletion sequence.
Got it, the agent called out. Offshore transfer records preserved. Multiple accounts linked to Sheriff Kerns and Commissioner Pike. Ruiz picked up a leather-bound ledger from Maxwell's desk, flipping through pages of handwritten notes. Well, well, looks like someone kept a personal record of every kickback.
She held up the book. Log it as evidence. Down the hall, file cabinets yielded more secrets. An agent waved a stack of papers. Ma'am, GPS tracking data from county patrol vehicles.
Deputy Hollis's car was present at three different farm fires before they started. A commotion erupted near the emergency stairs. Deputy Brent Hollis, who'd been meeting with Magnolia Crest executives, tried slipping away during the chaos. An agent moved to block his path. Out of my way.
Hollis shoved the agent hard, following up with a wild punch that caught the agent's shoulder. The hallway erupted in violence. Hollis's police training made him dangerous, but he was outnumbered. He slammed one agent into a wall, but two more tackled him from behind. They crashed into a reception desk, sending phones and monitors crashing.
Stop resisting. An agent drove his knee into Hollis's back, while another grabbed his flailing arms. Hollis's face met marble flooring with a dull thud. The fight drained out of him as handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists. Brent Hollis, Ruiz read from her warrant as agents hauled him up.
You're under arrest for evidence tampering, civil rights violations, and conspiracy to commit arson. In a conference room converted to a temporary interview space, Deputy Kyle Mercer sat with federal investigators. His voice shook slightly as he detailed years of corruption. Sheriff Kerns ordered us to target specific properties, Mercer testified. Always black-owned farms.
We'd plant drugs during routine stops, file false reports. Hollis handled the more violent stuff, vandalism, threats, the fires. An agent pushed a photo across the table. This barn fire from last March, you were on duty that night? Yeah.