A tale of today set in a world not so beyond but alternating the spin perceived.

Susan viewed the day as a calamity. The hours slipped away from her, lost in a haze of endless doomscrolling. The government had yet again delayed stimulus payments, the virus spread rampantly across the United States, and threats from domestic extremists loomed over her hometown.

In frustration, she pounded her fist against the kitchen counter and yelled, “Why!” It was less of a question and more an expression of outrage. She was transfixed by a video of a large recreational vehicle pulling up to a beachside cafe in Daytona Beach, Florida, where patrons were dining al fresco.

Moments later, the RV detonated, killing those closest and injuring many more. Nearby buildings were damaged, and the street was littered with debris.

In that instant, Susan resolved to become the silent avenger that the world so desperately needed.

"I don’t see why not," echoed in her thoughts. Her covert training had equipped her for operations, but her everyday life lacked the excitement she craved. Susan yearned to leap into the screen and save those affected by the explosion. She wished to be everywhere at once, confronting the armed self-proclaimed militias that terrorized unarmed citizens.

One determined woman could indeed make a difference, and she possessed a dangerous set of skills. Susan knew the location of their compound, nestled along Old Dixie Highway in Flagler Beach, surrounded by sprawling oaks and vast stretches of uninhabited forest.

The driver of the RV that exploded had previously resided at that very compound before his fatal drive.

Equipping herself, Susan packed lightly, carrying only the essentials. What began as a reconnaissance mission would evolve into three days of careful observation. She aimed to learn everything about them before making her move.

Parking discreetly between two large oaks on Seminole Woods Blvd., her quiet Toyota Prius provided the stealth she needed. She concealed her vehicle beneath the large palm fronds, knowing that the poor street lighting would keep her hidden five miles from the militia’s stronghold.

Her lightweight pack contained a tent, rifle, minimal food supplies, and an encrypted phone to ensure she couldn’t be traced.

Susan darted through backyards and thick underbrush, covering five miles without breaking a sweat. She kept her approach to the compound unnoticed, finally lying low on a bed of leaves and branches, using her night vision monocular to scan the area.

Suddenly, she heard rustling nearby. A tan Rhodesian Ridgeback charged at her, marking the first challenge of the compound's defenses.

Every muscle in her tensed, but her movement was smooth as she drew her telescoping baton from her leg. The dog leapt toward her, its teeth glistening in the moonlight, but Susan felt no fear. She raised the baton and thrust it into the dog's open mouth.

Using the dog's own momentum against it, she turned its head aside, leveraging its energy to gain the upper hand. With a swift motion, she pulled back on the baton, shattering several of the dog's teeth before it succumbed to her grip.

With a final blow to the canine's head, Susan rendered it unconscious.

The insignia on the dog's collar looked familiar. She snapped a picture before hastily stowing her phone away, aware that the collar's GPS could lead others directly to her.

In moments of overwhelming danger, quick and unexpected maneuvers often serve as the best defense—calm and direct thinking amidst chaos.

Susan zigzagged away, aware that while the dogs might detect her scent, they