“Now.”
The Old Man looked toward his cane.
Then at the hood.
He slowly placed both hands against the metal.
Without the cane, his weight shifted awkwardly.
The Officer began patting down his sides.
The Old Man said:
“I do not consent to a search.”
The Officer continued.
“I’m checking for weapons.”
“On what basis?”
The Officer stopped.
“Because you keep reaching into your jacket.”
“At your instruction.”
The Officer grabbed his elbow.
The Old Man’s knee trembled.
“Spread your feet.”
The Old Man looked over his shoulder.
“I have a damaged knee.”
“Spread them.”
“I may fall.”
The Officer grabbed his shoulder.
“Do it.”
The Old Man moved one foot.
Then another.
His knee gave slightly.
The Officer shoved him forward against the hood.
Hard enough that his chest struck metal.
The Old Man inhaled sharply.
Behind them, brakes hissed on the highway.
Neither man noticed at first.
The Old Man’s face was near the windshield.
His phone began ringing inside his jacket.
The Officer heard it.
“Whose phone?”
“Mine.”
“Who keeps calling?”
“Someone waiting for me.”
The Officer reached toward the jacket.
The Old Man turned.
“Do not take my phone.”
The Officer grabbed the device anyway.
Pulled it from the pocket.
The screen displayed:
COMMAND OPERATIONS
The Officer frowned.
“What’s that?”
The Old Man said nothing.
The Officer answered the call.
That was the first moment the Old Man’s control visibly broke.
“Do not answer that.”
Too late.
The Officer lifted the phone.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a voice spoke sharply through the receiver.
The Officer’s expression changed slightly.
“Who is this?”
More words.
The Officer looked toward the Old Man.
Then laughed.
“He’s busy.”
The Old Man closed his eyes.
The Officer listened again.
“No.”
“You listen to me.”
“This man is detained.”
Pause.
“I don’t care what convoy you’re with.”
The Old Man opened his eyes.
The Officer pulled the phone away.
Ended the call.
Then tossed it onto the passenger seat.
The Old Man stared at him.
“You should not have done that.”
The Officer’s mouth curled.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The threat.”
The Old Man shook his head.
“That was advice.”
The Officer stepped closer.
“I’m done with your attitude.”
He grabbed the Old Man’s arm again.
Twisted it behind him.
The Old Man winced.
His other hand grabbed the roof for balance.
“Officer.”
“Hands behind your back.”
“Slow down.”
“Hands behind your back.”