Chapter 262 - 262: 262 | Problem Resolved

<🎧 Song Recommendation: Like A Prayer - Choir Version From "Deadpool and Wolverine" by I'll Take You There Choir>

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The fourteen Vanguard semi-trucks pulled in along the shoulder, their air brakes venting with a loud noise as they lined up behind the convoy.

The cab doors opened, and more than a dozen drivers in matching dark utility jackets climbed down into the gravel.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with a clipboard and a company badge led the group, walking straight past the state cruisers toward Von.

"Mr. Varley," the man said, offering a firm, respectful handshake. "I'm Miller, regional fleet coordinator. Good morning, sir."

"Morning, Miller," Von replied, returning the grip. "Thanks for moving so fast."

"We move when corporate calls," Miller said with a brief nod. He turned to his crew, waving a hand toward the line of trailers. "Alright, boys! Let's get these cabs decoupled and swap the pins. We've got an arena schedule to keep."

"Yes, sir!" the drivers called out, immediately fanning out along the convoy with wrenches and air-line connectors.

The lead state inspector snapped out of his daze, his face flushing with panic as he realized his blockade was falling apart.

"Hey! Stop right there!" the inspector yelled, jogging forward with his clipboard raised. "Nobody touches those trailers! This fleet is under an administrative hold! Back away from the hitch!"

Von stepped off the bus steps and planted himself directly in the inspector's path.

"Show me the paperwork on the trailers," Von said. His voice was calm, but cold and heavy.

The inspector skidded to a halt on the loose gravel. "What?"

"You heard me," Von said, looking down at him. "Your Out-of-Service citation tagged the contracted cabs and the drivers for logbook hours. The cargo trailers are under unbroken federal transit seals. You never inspected them, you never cited them, and you don't have a single legal ground to touch them."

The second officer hurried up behind the lead inspector, trying to puff out his chest. "Listen here, kid, we have the authority to detain—"

"Shut your mouth!" Von snapped, his gaze shifting to the second officer with enough venom to make the man flinch.

Von turned back to the lead inspector, stepping closer until barely two feet separated them.

"I've been quiet and polite with you all morning," Von said, keeping every word slow and intentional. "But if you make up bullcrap on this highway a second time, I'm going to knock your teeth down your throat. Step aside, or try me."

The two officers froze.

Von stood tall, his shoulders relaxed, but the quiet menace in his eyes was unmistakable. The inspectors knew commercial law, and they knew they had pushed their luck too far. If a fight broke out or state lawyers got involved, their badges wouldn't protect them from a felony misconduct charge.

Swallowing hard, the lead inspector took a slow step back into the dirt. He raised a stiff hand to his partner, signaling him to drop it.

Von didn't spare them another glance. He turned and walked over to Frank and the other thirteen drivers, who were standing by the lead coach with wide, bewildered eyes.

"Von..." Frank breathed, shaking his head. "I don't even know what to say, man. Those rigs are our livelihoods. If they impounded them—"

"You don't need to say anything, Frank," Von said gently, resting a hand on the older man's shoulder. "You've been driving safely for twenty years. You didn't deserve this rubbish, and nobody on your team is losing a dime today."

Frank let out a shaky breath. "What happens to our cabs?"

"Vanguard is escorting your bobtails to the commercial rest plaza two miles up the road so they can sit safely under a corporate permit," Von explained.

"You and your crew are getting your full contracted tour rate, plus a double-time cash hazard bonus for the trouble. Climb into the other three passenger coaches, take some bunks, and get some sleep. We're riding into Orlando together, and Zack is already getting those fake tags wiped off your records. I'm not letting your licenses take a single hit."

A collective murmur of relief passed through the group of drivers. Frank gripped Von's hand tightly, his eyes shining with gratitude, before leading his men toward the passenger buses.

Across the gravel, the Vanguard team worked like clockwork, backing their clean tractors under the trailers with solid metallic thuds.

The two state inspectors were slowly retreating toward their cruiser, grumbling under their breath.

Von stepped off the shoulder and walked toward them.

His pace was slow, measured, and completely silent.

Hearing the crunch of gravel behind them, both officers spun around. Seeing Von closing in, their eyes widened with panic.

The lead officer instinctively threw up his hands in an awkward fighting stance, while the second officer stumbled backward against the cruiser hood, raising both arms to shield his face.

"Stay back!" the lead officer stammered, his voice cracking. "What are you doing?! Don't come any closer!"

Von stopped four feet away.

He didn't come to swing arms, he wasn't here to discuss with them either.

He simply pulled his phone from his pocket, aimed straight at their pale, terrified faces, and held it up.

"Say cheese."

Flash.

The bright burst of the camera blinded them in the predawn gloom.

Before they could blink away the spots in their eyes, Von turned on his heel and walked back to the coach.

"Hey! Wait!" the lead officer yelled out weakly. "What was that for?! Delete that!"

Von didn't even turn around. He climbed the bus steps, and the door hissed shut behind him.

Out on the asphalt, the second officer lowered his shaking hands and looked at his partner.

"What do we do now?"

The lead inspector swallowed dryly, watching the fresh tractors light up their turn signals. "We... we just report that the plan failed. He can't do anything to us."

The second officer looked at his partner like he was an idiot.

"We're cooked, man. We're so cooked."