Chapter 315

The flare pierced the sky as three military trucks roared toward the mining area, their tires kicking up clouds of dust over the gravel road.

"Faster! Step on it!" The soldier in the passenger seat white-knuckled the handrail.

As they neared the mining compound's gates, the iron doors creaked open, revealing Andrew Smith waving urgently. "Watch out! They've got guard dogs and machetes!"

Twelve fully armed SWAT officers leaped from the trucks in unison, their gun barrels glinting coldly in the sunlight.

The approaching thugs froze mid-charge. A yellow-haired gang leader dropped his steel pipe with a clang.

"C-cops!"

Someone's panicked shout sent the crowd scattering like startled birds. Several men scrambled toward the office building to sound the alarm.

Upstairs, Victor Shaw had just hung up the phone when gunfire erupted. His thick lips trembled as he mopped his shiny forehead with a silk handkerchief.

"Boss, the place is swarming with armed police—" His secretary burst in breathlessly.

Victor tossed his phone onto the leather sofa. "Calm down. I'll handle this."

When the elevator doors opened, Andrew was inventorying detained thugs. Heavy footsteps approached.

"Who's in charge here?" Victor adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his beer belly leading the way.

Andrew stepped forward. "Captain Andrew Smith, SWAT Unit."

"My, what an impressive young captain." Victor suddenly draped an arm over Andrew's shoulder. "Care for a private word?"

Andrew sidestepped the gesture. "Speak plainly."

The smile stiffened on Victor's face. As he straightened his tie, he slipped a bulging envelope into Andrew's pocket. "For your men's trouble... just some refreshment funds—"

"Evidence team!" Andrew barked.

A gloved officer rushed over. Andrew produced the envelope. "Log this as Exhibit A."

Victor's face purpled. "Captain Smith, don't burn bridges. My cousin is deputy director at the Provincial—"

"Note that down," Andrew told the recorder. "Attempted bribery and threatening law enforcement."

Just then, the mine elevator screeched to life, bringing up thirty-odd miners in tattered clothes. Their hollow eyes welled with tears at the sight of police vehicles and armed officers.

Sirens wailed as three prosecutor's sedans skidded to a stop. Polished dress shoes stepped onto the coal-dusted ground.

"Mr. Shaw." The lead prosecutor flashed his badge. "You'll need to come with us."