New Jide State.
At 9 PM, the state police station.
Ronnie hung his bulletproof vest on the metal rack in the changing room, cleared the chamber of his handgun, removed the magazine, and walked to the door of the armory.
At that moment, Margaret appeared around the corner of the hallway with a report in her hands.
"Ronnie!" Margaret called out.
"I'm off duty, tell me tomorrow," Ronnie waved his hand dismissively.
"No way! Ronnie, we just received an emergency call. Someone reported that hundreds of people are gathering in the community on 117th Street for cult activities," Margaret said.
"Is someone being sacrificed?" Ronnie asked.
"What sort of joke is that?" Margaret replied, hands on her hips.
"If it's just a bunch of mumbo jumbo, then it's not really a big deal, Margaret. Our country has freedom of assembly and demonstration," Ronnie said.
"No, it's serious this time!" Margaret insisted.
"How so?" Ronnie shrugged.
