The first strike shattered the driver's side mirror of the midnight-blue Rolls-Royce.
The second strike destroyed something far more valuable.
It destroyed the last chance two sheriff's deputies had to walk away from the worst mistake of their careers.
The sound of breaking glass echoed across the courthouse square in Hawthorne County, Georgia, just after eleven on a bright Thursday morning.
A woman screamed.
Several pedestrians stopped walking.
A young man sitting beside the fountain lifted his phone and began recording.
And beside the magnificent luxury vehicle stood an exceptionally beautiful twenty-nine-year-old Black woman in a pale butter-yellow dress, staring at the uniformed man who had just deliberately damaged her car.
Her expression was almost impossible to describe.
Not fear.
Not shock alone.
Something colder.
Something that suggested she was watching a terrible decision being made by someone who had absolutely no understanding of the consequences.
"Are you out of your mind?" she demanded.
The older deputy smiled.
He was thirty-eight, broad-shouldered, with short brown hair, a square jaw, and the heavy confidence of a man who had spent years making people step aside when he raised his voice.
His tan sheriff's uniform was neatly pressed. A gold star badge gleamed against his chest, and a black duty belt rested around his waist.
In his right hand, he held a collapsible police baton.
The tip was still touching the broken mirror.
"That's what happens when you don't cooperate."
The woman stared at him.
"Cooperate with what? You've accused me of stealing my own vehicle!"
The deputy stepped closer.
"You expect me to believe this car belongs to you?"
She gestured toward the Rolls-Royce.
"The registration is in my handbag. My identification is right here. You haven't checked either one."
He laughed.
Behind him, a younger deputy with short blond hair and an equally neat tan uniform leaned against the front fender of the patrol SUV.
He was thirty-two, athletic, and wearing the amused expression of someone enjoying a confrontation he believed someone else would eventually handle.
"She's got a story for everything," the younger deputy said.
The older man grinned.