I knew the vehicle.
More importantly, I knew who was inside.
The taller man apparently interpreted my glance as an attempt to look for help. He stepped forward, grabbed my shirt, and drove me against the sedan again. Pain shot through my shoulder as the metal door flexed beneath my weight.
"Eyes on me!" he barked.
Behind him, the HOA president laughed.
"Maybe now he'll understand that rules apply to everybody."
She was fifty-two years old, with a short, carefully styled blonde bob, an expensive bright-orange blazer, white trousers, designer sunglasses, and polished heels. She held a brown clipboard against her chest as though it were a judge's order, and her expression carried the particular satisfaction of someone watching another person suffer a consequence she'd personally arranged.
I looked at her.
"You called these men?"
She lifted her chin.
"I warned you what would happen if you continued ignoring association regulations."
The fake officer gripped his baton more tightly.
"Last chance. On the ground."
I kept my voice steady.
"You should identify the department you're claiming to represent."
He sneered.
"You don't get to question me."
Then he swung the baton again.
The impact struck my arm as I tried to protect my upper body. I stumbled sideways onto the grass, catching myself before I fell completely. My shoulder burned, but the pain was nothing compared with the realization that the man was willing to continue attacking an elderly homeowner in front of witnesses.
I heard a vehicle door slam.
Then another.
A voice rang out from the street.
"FBI! Drop the baton!"
The fake officer froze.
I turned my head.
Two genuine federal agents were moving toward the driveway from the black SUV. Both wore clearly marked FBI jackets, and one held an official identification wallet while the other maintained a controlled distance from the armed impostor.
The taller man's expression changed instantly.
The HOA president stopped smiling.
One of the federal agents raised a tablet displaying live surveillance footage of the assault that had occurred only seconds earlier.
"Put it down," she ordered. "Every second of that attack is recorded."
The wooden baton slipped from the man's fingers and struck the pavement.
His partner took a step backward.