PART 3
Detective Kent closed his notebook with a heavy sigh. “Mr. Vance, off the record… Royce Clark isn’t a street punk. He runs a heavily armed crew that controls half the illicit gambling in the tri-county area. If you think breaking his nephew’s jaw ends this, you’re dead wrong. He’s going to come for you.”
“Let him come,” Julian replied coldly.
“Julian,” Eleanor warned softly, setting her hand over his. “We do this by the book.” She turned to the detectives. “My husband acted in self-defense after our daughter was brutally assaulted. I’m an ER nurse—I documented every fracture on Evelyn’s body. If Royce Clark or his associates try to press charges or threaten my family, we will make sure every federal agency in the state looks into his operations.”
Detective Shepard looked at Julian with new respect. “I’ll submit the report as a self-defense altercation pending further review. But keep your head down, Mr. Vance.”
They left, but Julian knew the peace wouldn’t last.
That night, the attack came.
At 2:00 AM, three armed men tied to the Southside Vipers kicked through the back door of Julian’s home. They came expecting an aging veteran and his terrified wife.
They didn’t find a terrified family. They walked into a dark house controlled by a man who’d spent fifteen years studying room clearance, close-quarters combat, and ambush tactics.
In less than ninety seconds, using nothing more than a tactical flashlight and his bare hands, Julian disarmed all three men. The sound of breaking bones and heavy bodies hitting the hardwood floor echoed through the dark house.
Julian stood over the lead intruder, resting his boot heavily against the man’s chest. He pulled out his phone and dialed a private number he hadn’t called in eight years.
“Colonel,” Julian said into the receiver. “It’s Vance. I need a favor from the Quantico legal unit regarding a local racketeering ring.”
