“Because there should be one.”
The supervisor said nothing.
The first officer turned.
“You really think this is going somewhere?”
The traveler looked at him.
“I think every incident goes somewhere.”
“Most complaints disappear.”
Nobody moved.
The officer apparently realized what he had said.
The traveler’s expression did not change.
But the shift supervisor looked at his subordinate sharply.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
The first officer returned to typing.
That sentence would matter later.
Not because it proved misconduct.
Because it revealed expectation.
At minute seven, the traveler spoke again.
“I need the call.”
The supervisor nodded toward the telephone.
“One call.”
The first officer objected.
“We’re not finished.”
The supervisor’s patience was thinning.
“Let him call.”
The traveler stood.
Dialed from memory.
The call connected almost instantly.
“Operations duty desk.”
He gave his name.
Credential number.
Location.
Then:
“My identity is being questioned at Terminal C.”
The first officer leaned back, amused.
The traveler continued.
“My credential and sealed review case are currently retained by airport security.”
The tone on the other end changed.
“Has the seal been broken?”
“No.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Have you signed anything?”
“No.”
“Have they provided a reason for denying verification?”
“No.”
“Did you provide the secure contact number?”
“Multiple times.”
The person on the other end paused.
“Remain cooperative.”
“I am.”
“Do not authorize seal breach until verification is completed.”
“Understood.”
“We’re initiating facility contact now.”
The traveler replaced the telephone.
The first officer smiled.
“That it?”
“Yes.”
“Who’d you call?”
“Duty verification.”
The officer looked disappointed.
He had expected some dramatic title.
Some famous connection.
The traveler offered none.
The supervisor, however, looked more thoughtful.
“What happens now?”
“They verify me.”
“That simple?”
“It always was.”
At minute eight, the phone rang.
The supervisor answered.
“Security office.”
He listened.
“Yes.”
His eyes shifted toward the traveler.
“Yes, he’s here.”
Another pause.
“We have the credential.”
Pause.
“And the sealed case.”
His posture changed.
“No, it has not been opened.”
He listened longer.
Then:
“Understood.”
He hung up.
The first officer asked:
“What?”
The supervisor looked at him.
“The credential is valid.”
The officer shrugged.
“Fine.”
The supervisor did not move.