Story code: ST-000224
Part 2: Under the Gun
The red and blue strobes painted the heavy pine trunks in erratic, violent bursts of color. The aggressive local man did not step away from Julian’s window, but a smug, triumphant grin spread across his face, illuminated by the harsh backscatter of the cruiser’s lightbar. He lowered the heavy steel flashlight just a fraction of an inch, pointing it toward the approaching vehicle instead of Julian’s windshield.
Julian exhaled a slow, measured breath. He slowly pulled his right hand back from the glove compartment, returning it to the top of the steering wheel. He kept his fingers spread wide, distinctly visible in the ambient glow of the dashboard. The arrival of law enforcement should have been a relief, but the tight, self-satisfied posture of the man outside suggested otherwise. This was his territory, and he clearly expected the cavalry to back him up.
The heavy crunch of gravel signaled the deputy stepping out of the cruiser. A second, intense beam of light cut through the darkness, joining the local man’s flashlight.
“Evening, Dale,” a loud, authoritative voice called out over the idling engines. The deputy’s tone was casual, familiar. “Got yourself a live one out here?”
“Caught him creeping up the property line,” Dale called back, not taking his eyes off Julian. “Refused to step out of the vehicle. Refused to state his business. Then he started reaching for the glovebox. Probably armed, Miller.”
Julian pressed his lips together, listening to the deliberate, escalating lies. Dale was actively framing a deadly scenario, using the exact buzzwords necessary to put a responding officer on high alert. The gravel crunched louder as Deputy Miller approached the driver’s side window. He stepped up beside Dale, shining his heavy tactical light directly into Julian’s face.
Julian squinted, turning his head slightly to protect his night vision, but he kept his hands locked at ten and two on the steering wheel.
“Driver,” Deputy Miller ordered, his voice losing all of its previous casual warmth. It was flat, hard, and strictly procedural. “Turn the engine off and drop the keys out the window. Right now.”
“Officer,” Julian began, keeping his tone carefully modulated. “I am parked on a public easement. This man blocked me in with his truck and threatened to shatter my window with that flashlight.”
“I said turn the engine off,” Miller snapped, his free hand dropping to rest securely on the grip of his holstered sidearm. “Do not make me ask you again. Drop the keys on the dirt.”
Julian recognized the lethal threshold he was hovering over. Explanations would not work while the deputy viewed him as an active threat. He slowly shifted his right hand to the ignition, killed the engine, and pulled the keys free. He held them up by the lanyard for a full three seconds so both men could see exactly what he was holding, then tossed them through the two-inch gap in the window. They clattered harmlessly into the dark weeds.
“Now, use your left hand to open the door from the outside,” Miller commanded. “Keep your right hand where I can see it.”
“My door is locked,” Julian said calmly. “I need to unlock it first.”
“Do it slow,” Miller warned.
Julian pressed the unlock button. He reached out the narrow window gap, pulled the exterior handle, and pushed the heavy door open. The interior dome light flared to life, illuminating the rental SUV’s spotless cabin. He stepped out onto the uneven dirt road. The night air was biting, settling over the woods with a damp chill, but the sheer proximity of the two hostile men was suffocating. Dale stood just three feet to Julian’s left, still gripping his heavy steel flashlight. Deputy Miller stood squarely in front of him, keeping the blinding beam of his tactical light fixed on Julian’s chest.
“Turn around and place your hands flat on the roof of the vehicle,” Miller ordered.
Julian complied smoothly, turning his back to the blinding lights and pressing his palms against the cold metal of the SUV. He spread his feet apart, assuming the standard search position before the deputy even asked. He had been through this specific indignity before, but the absolute isolation of the dark woods and the blatant camaraderie between the deputy and the local vigilante made the air feel dangerously combustible.
“Check his pockets, Miller,” Dale muttered from the periphery. “He was definitely reaching for a piece when you pulled up. These people always come out here looking for easy targets.”
“I’ve got it, Dale. Step back,” Miller replied, though his tone was gentle, lacking the harsh authority he used on Julian.
Heavy hands patted down Julian’s sides, sweeping over his waistline and down his legs. The deputy’s search was aggressive, yanking Julian’s suit jacket back to check his waistband. When Miller found no weapons, he stepped back slightly, though the beam of light did not waver.
“Turn around,” Miller commanded.
Julian turned slowly, lowering his hands to his sides, keeping them in plain view. “Deputy, if you check the passenger seat, you will see my iPad displaying official county survey maps. I am here conducting legal business.”
“At ten o’clock at night?” Dale scoffed loudly. “Bullshit. He’s scouting.”
“Quiet, Dale,” Miller said, taking a half-step closer to Julian. “I don’t care what’s on your iPad. I want your driver’s license and I want to know exactly what you’re doing on a private access road.”
“It is a public access easement,” Julian corrected, keeping his voice painfully even. “As documented by the county clerk. My identification is in my wallet. Inside my left breast pocket.”
“Get it,” Miller said. “Two fingers. Nice and slow.”
Julian nodded once. He reached his right hand slowly toward the lapel of his charcoal suit jacket. Every millimeter of his movement was deliberate. He slid two fingers into the inner silk pocket, feeling the familiar leather of his credentials. He gripped it securely and began to withdraw it from the jacket.
Before the leather cleared his lapel, Dale suddenly lurched forward, bringing his heavy flashlight up. “Watch his hand! He’s pulling something!”
The sudden, explosive shout triggered a lethal reflex. The sharp sound of a holster unsnapping echoed like a gunshot in the quiet woods. Deputy Miller drew his service weapon, dropping into a firing stance, leveling the barrel directly at Julian’s chest.