“Now maybe you’ll stop talking like you run the street.”
The federal agent looked over his shoulder.
“I don’t run the street.”
The officer smirked.
The agent continued.
“I’m responsible for this position.”
The younger officer approached the driver’s window.
He did not enter the SUV.
He simply leaned enough to look.
His eyes found the credential.
Then the communications equipment.
His expression tightened.
“Partner.”
The older officer was searching the agent’s outer pockets.
“Not now.”
“I think we should verify this.”
“We will.”
“When?”
“When I’m done.”
The younger officer looked toward the federal agent.
The agent met his eyes.
“Call dispatch.”
The younger officer hesitated.
The older officer snapped:
“Do not take instructions from him.”
The agent answered:
“Then take them from common sense.”
The older officer spun toward him.
“What did you say?”
The federal agent did not raise his voice.
“You have a compliant subject.”
“Valid identification visible in the vehicle.”
“Specialized communications equipment.”
“A restricted street that is otherwise empty.”
“And your own partner is telling you to verify.”
“What exactly are you protecting yourself from by refusing to make one call?”
The officer stepped closer.
Too close.
“You think because you’ve got some expensive electronics and a suit, I’m supposed to believe whatever story you tell?”
“No.”
The agent looked directly at him.
“I think you’re supposed to check.”
Silence.
The younger officer reached for his shoulder microphone.
The older officer slapped his hand away from it.
“I said wait.”
That changed everything.
The younger officer stared at him.
“What?”
“I said wait until I finish.”
“Finish what?”
The question hung there.
The older officer looked almost offended.
The younger officer continued.
“We’ve got his hands cuffed.”
“The car is stationary.”
“He gave us identification.”
“What are we waiting to verify?”
The federal agent said nothing.
The argument was no longer his.
That helped.
The older officer pointed toward the patrol car.
“Go stand by the cruiser.”
The younger officer stayed.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then a faint electronic voice crackled from near the federal agent’s collar.
The older officer looked down.
The earpiece had been partially pulled loose during the handcuffing.
A secure transmission came through.
Short.
Professional.
The words were not fully clear, but the meaning was unmistakable.
Positions were being checked.
Movement was progressing.
Responses were expected.
The federal agent closed his eyes briefly.
The older officer stared at the earpiece.
“What was that?”
The agent said:
“The call you should have believed before it arrived.”
Another transmission.
The younger officer’s face changed instantly.
He reached for his radio again.
This time the older officer did not stop him.
The younger man contacted dispatch.
He gave the location.
The vehicle description.
The credentialing information he could see.
Then he waited.
The older officer stood beside the restrained agent.
His breathing had changed.
Confidence was beginning to leak out of the situation.
Not dramatically.
In small pieces.
His eyes kept moving toward the empty road.
Toward the SUV.
Toward the credential.