The war chariots screeched to a halt around us, surrounding the entire barbecue stall area with military precision. These weren't ordinary police vehicles—these were the elite Special Tactics Unit's armored transports, complete with mounted weapons and reinforced plating.
Commander Keller emerged from the lead vehicle, his imposing figure clad in tactical gear. His steely gaze swept over the scene, taking in the gang members who were now frozen in place like statues.
"Uncle Keller!" Clara exclaimed, rushing forward with surprising speed. She threw her arms around the commander's waist, her earlier fear completely vanished.
I observed the commander's transformation with interest. His hard military demeanor softened momentarily as he patted Clara's head, before his expression hardened again when he looked at the gang members.
