A Routine Drive That Turned Into an Ambush
The sun was just beginning to sink behind the city skyline when the black government SUV rolled into the small roadside lot. General Regina M. Cal had taken this route dozens of times — a quiet shortcut between the base and the secure facility where she was scheduled to brief a team later that evening.
Her uniform was immaculate.
Silver stars gleamed on her shoulders. Her ID badge, clipped neatly to her chest, carried the seal of the Department of Defense and her name in bold, precise letters:
GEN. REGINA M.
CAL – JOINT OPERATIONS COMMAND
She had faced hostile fire, commanded troops on foreign soil, and walked through war zones. Today was supposed to be easy — a briefing, a debrief, and then a late call with her niece to help with a school project.
She never imagined the most humiliating confrontation of her career would happen in an empty parking lot just a few miles from home.
As she slowed down to answer a message on her secure device, red and blue lights exploded in her rearview mirror.
A local patrol car.
Then a second one.
Regina frowned, eased the SUV into park, and lowered her window.
“Perhaps they made a mistake,” she thought. “I’ll show my ID, we’ll clarify, and that will be that.”
She had no idea how wrong she was.
“People Like You Don’t Belong Here”
Two officers stepped out of their vehicles — Sergeant Cole and Officer Henkins.
They didn’t approach with curiosity or professionalism. They approached with something else entirely: irritation, suspicion, and a kind of casual contempt Regina had learned to recognize over time.
Cole strode straight to her window, hands on his belt, chin lifted just a little too high.
“License and registration,” he barked, without greeting, without even looking at her face.
Regina offered a polite smile. “Good evening, Sergeant.
I’m General Regina Cal. This is a government vehicle—”
He cut her off with a scoff. “Yeah, I see the costume.
License. Registration. Now.”
Costume.
She felt a small sting at the word, but kept her voice even.
“Of course. My ID is on my chest, and my military credentials are in the glove compartment. I’ll reach for them slowly.”
Cole rolled his eyes.
“You can drop the act. This car was reported stolen. And I don’t know who you think you are, but this isn’t a movie set.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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