Judge Inz spoke up, her voice carrying decades of courtroom authority. I've been reviewing property records. Cain owns six rental properties through Shell Companies, all purchased with cash in the last 5 years, more than a sergeant's salary could explain. One of the honest officers noted the pension system. Ruth's friend Martha suddenly said, "Everyone turned to the elderly woman.
My herald was on the force 40 years. Nothing scared those boys more than losing their pensions. Ethan Cho was already typing on his laptop. The police pension fund requires a clean record. Any felony conviction means automatic forfeite."
Marta finished writing furiously. And civil asset forfeite could freeze those properties while we investigate their purchase. The plan began taking shape. Ethan would run a series exposing Kane's property empire. Judge Inz would sign the forfeite warrants.
The honest officers would ensure the paperwork moved through channels without warning. Ruth's council would organize daily protests outside the pension board meetings. Cain will have to surface. Alana said he'll want to negotiate to make a deal. He'll try to meet somewhere private, one officer warned.
Somewhere he can control. Let him think he's in control, Elena replied. That's when he makes mistakes. They spent the next hour mapping out every detail. Marta drafted the legal documents.
Ethan prepared his broadcast scripts. The elders organized their phone trees. Judge Inz reviewed precedents for the warrants. "We move at dawn," Alana concluded. Cain will wake up to frozen accounts and property lions.
By noon, the pension board will have their preliminary report. By evening, every senior citizen in Riverton will be calling their council member about police pension reform. The coalition began dispersing, each with their assigned tasks. Ruth remained seated, watching her daughter with quiet pride. When the room had emptied except for them, she stood and crossed to Alana.
"Your brother would be proud," Ruth said softly, placing a weathered hand against Alana's cheek. "So proud of who you've become." Alana leaned into her mother's touch, drawing strength from the contact. I couldn't do this alone. You're not alone.
Ruth assured her. We're with you. All of us. She straightened Alana's collar with the automatic gesture of a mother who had done so countless times before. Now, let's go make some noise.
Through the church's basement windows, morning light was growing stronger, burning away the lingering smoke that hung over Riverton. In the parking lot, cars started up as their unlikely coalition headed out to set their trap. The time for hiding was over. The parking structure loomed like a concrete fortress, shadows dancing between support pillars. Alana stood on level three, her back against a concrete wall, waiting.
The city sprawled below, a maze of street lights and dark alleys. A black SUV growled up the ramp, headlights off. Cain emerged first, a police issue batten already in hand. Two heavies flanked him. Alana recognized them from the original choking incident.
Both wore dark jackets that couldn't quite hide their shoulder holsters. No badge tonight. Alana's voice carried across the empty garage. Cain twirled the baton. Didn't think we needed the formalities.
Three against one. Still can't fight fair. The heavies spread out, trying to flank her. Their footsteps echoed off concrete walls. Cain's face twisted into an ugly smile.
You should have stayed down the first time. He lunged, baton whistling through the air. Alana slipped left, letting it crack against concrete. Her elbow found his ribs, precise, brutal. Cain stumbled back with a grunt.
The first heavy rushed in. Alana grabbed the nearest car door handle, yanked it open into his charge. The impact rang through the structure. She followed through with a palm heel to his temple, then drove her knee into his midsection. An armbar took him down, face pressed to oil stained concrete.
The second heavy was smarter, more cautious. He circled, looking for an opening. Cain recovered, batten ready. Getting tired? Cain taunted.
No backup this time. Don't need it. Alana kept both men in view. Stance balanced. They came at her together.
Alana used their size against them, ducking under wild swings. Her defensive training took over. Deflect, counter, control. Each movement precise. Nothing wasted.
The second heavy caught her shoulder with a glancing blow, but she turned it into momentum, sweeping his legs. Cain pressed his advantage, backing her toward a concrete pillar. The batton came down hard. Alana caught his wrist, twisted. The weapon clattered to the ground, but Cain was ready.
He drove forward, slamming her against the pillar. His arm snaked around her throat, the same chokeold from that night on the corner. Remember this," he snarled. But Alana was ready. She tucked her chin, protecting her windpipe.
Her hips shifted, center of gravity dropping. One smooth motion, rotate, hip throw. Cain hit the ground hard. She could have choked him then. Could have given him a taste of his own medicine.
Instead, Alana pinned him one knee on his chest. "You're done," she said. Cain laughed, blood staining his teeth. Done. I own this city.
Always have. Tell me about that. Alana's voice changed, became conversational. About how you own Riverton. Pride loosened his tongue.
Damn right I do. 20 years keeping the streets quiet, making sure the right people get paid. The cartel people. Someone has to manage distribution. Might as well be us.
We know which trucks to stop, which ones to wave through. He grinned. Your brother never understood that. Had to teach him the hard way. Alana's grip tightened, but her voice stayed steady.