Cowell raised the card.
“This is real.”
Speck pulled his handcuffs free.
Cowell continued.
“He’s active duty.”
Speck grabbed Bowford’s left wrist.
“Put it down.”
“He’s a colonel.”
“Put it down.”
“And it says he’s deputy commander at Fort Caldwell.”
Speck twisted Bowford’s arm sharply behind him.
The cuff snapped closed.
Too tight.
Bowford’s jaw tightened.
He did not move otherwise.
Speck pulled his right wrist down.
Bowford spoke.
“Officer Speck.”
Speck paused.
Bowford had read his nameplate.
“I am formally asking you to contact your shift supervisor before securing the second cuff.”
Speck leaned closer.
“Nobody relevant to call.”
The second cuff closed.
Ratchet after ratchet.
Too tight again.
Bowford exhaled once.
“You are making a catastrophic mistake.”
Speck laughed beside his ear.
“That’s your problem.”
Bowford stared across the road into the pines.
“What is?”
“You people think something on a plastic card changes things.”
Bowford said nothing.
Speck continued.
“Nice car.”
“Government card.”
“Big job.”
“You think any of that matters out here?”
Bowford remained still.
Speck’s voice became quieter.
“On this road, at this hour, there’s nobody coming for you.”
Three seconds passed.
Then Bowford said:
“Look down.”
Speck blinked.
“What?”
“The pavement.”
Speck’s grip tightened.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look beneath your boots.”
Cowell already had.
A wide yellow boundary stripe angled across the shoulder.
The paint was faded.
Beside it, white stencil lettering was worn but readable.
FEDERAL LAND BOUNDARY
Speck stared.
Bowford continued.
“This section of Highway 84 crosses a federal easement belonging to Fort Caldwell.”
Cowell immediately pulled out his department mapping device.
He checked the jurisdiction overlay.
His face changed.
“Arno.”
Speck ignored him.
Cowell looked up.
“He’s right.”
Speck turned.
“What?”
“We crossed the county boundary line at the creek.”
He pointed at the screen.
“This section is concurrent jurisdiction.”
Speck looked from the phone to the road.
Then toward the dark tree line.
Bowford spoke calmly.
“The installation perimeter is approximately three hundred twenty yards south-southeast of your position.”
Speck stared at him.
Before he could answer, a voice came from inside the SUV.
Clear.
Female.
Amplified by the vehicle’s speakers.
“Colonel Bowford.”
Speck went still.
Sergeant First Class Immani’s voice continued.
“Fort Caldwell operations. Do you copy, sir?”
Cowell slowly turned toward the open window.
Speck’s face drained.
Bowford answered: