Chapter 13 - The Chancellor’s Ambush
Deputy Miller stood alone on the bridge deck, his hand resting on his service weapon, completely outmatched by the dozen armed mercenaries facing him.
Harry Collins pulled his cruiser across the centerline, blocking the bridge entrance, and stepped out into the damp morning air with his hand on his holster. I pulled the Ford right behind him, Sarah leaping out with her phone already recording the encounter.
"Step back from that bridge deck!" Harry bellowed, his voice echoing across the rushing water. "You are blocking a public thoroughfare in Knox County!"
The lawyer beside Hayes stepped forward, extending the stamped order with a cold, triumphant grin.
"Sheriff Collins, I suggest you stand down," the lawyer said, his voice dripping with condescension. "I am Marcus Vance—no relation to your young associate—representing Ridgecrest Holdings. Chancellor Bradley signed an emergency ex-parte writ of immediate possession at six-thirty this morning under Tennessee Rule of Civil Procedure 65. Ridgecrest has been appointed receiver of the disputed Miller acreage pending a full hearing on the easement's validity."
"Ex-parte?" Sarah cried out, pushing past the sheriff. "A writ of possession on real property without notice to the record title holder is an unconstitutional violation of due process! Bradley had no jurisdiction to issue this without an emergency evidentiary hearing!"
"Take it up with the Court of Appeals next month, counselor," Marcus Vance sneered. "As of right now, Apex Security is authorized to establish a perimeter. Anyone interfering with this writ will be arrested by private citation for contempt of court."
Hayes stepped forward, his eyes burning with triumphant hatred as he looked past Harry Collins straight at me.
"Your little salamanders bought you twelve hours, Miller," Hayes purred. "By nightfall, my core-drilling rigs will be past that creek and boring through your limestone. If your subterranean friends are down there, they’ll have to breathe dry cement."
Two Apex guards stepped forward, raising their heavy crowbars to smash through the wooden gate that marked the boundary of our family land.
"Wait!" Michael's voice cut through the roar of the creek.
He pushed his way out of the passenger side of my truck, clutching a yellow manila folder he had pulled from under the front seat—a folder he had stolen from my study when he first arrived.
"Hayes!" Michael screamed, his hands shaking violently as he waved a series of blue-tinted photographs in the air. "You drill into that creek bed, and this whole valley goes down with you!"
Carter Hayes’ smug grin froze on his face. He stared at the folder in Michael’s hand, his skin turning a ghostly, ash-white shade beneath his tan.
May you like
"Where did you get those?" Hayes whispered, his voice cracking for the first time.
Michael stopped at the edge of the bridge, holding the papers above the rushing water, while the dark clouds on the crest of the mountain began to rumble with an approaching autumn storm. Behind us, from the deep woods on the far side of the creek, the high-pitched shriek of heavy industrial machinery echoed through the trees—machinery that none of us had authorized, and that neither the Sheriff nor Hayes seemed to control.
