Sullivan parallel parked his car behind a black van. Once out of his car he examined it. He found the USR insignia on it. Old King came through after all. He fought his initial instinct to call it in. He was on suspension and didn’t want to get thrown into the brig for taking the law into his own hands.
He stood outside the chipped wooden door and took several deep breaths. He yanked his Glock from the holster then clicked the safety off. This would be it. It would all end now, one way or the other. After a three count, he lifted his right leg and kicked at the door. The old door flew open without a fight.
Sullivan moved in quick, but stopped on a dime when he heard the loud barks of a very big dog. His eyes scanned with earnest around the trashed living room. He found the source of the barks in the kitchen. The pit bull terrier was locked away safely behind the thick steel bars of its cage. It continued to bark and snarl as Sullivan got closer. So much for the element of surprise.