“Stay with me.”
Seconds later, another voice came on.
“This is Special Agent Monica Ellis.”
Sharon looked toward the street.
“They’re looking for me.”
“We know.”
She froze.
“What?”
“We’ve been monitoring the incident.”
Sharon nearly dropped the phone.
“The woman?”
Monica glanced toward Samuel. He nodded once.
“I can’t discuss her identity.”
Sharon understood anyway.
“They’re hurting her.”
“I know.”
“They cuffed that homeless boy too.”
“We know.”
Sharon started crying.
“I should’ve recorded them months ago.”
Monica’s voice softened.
“You recorded today. That matters.”
She gave Sharon instructions. Do not go home. Do not return to the store. Stay out of sight. Federal agents were being diverted to retrieve her. Sharon held the flash drive so tightly the plastic edge hurt her palm.
“I’m not losing this.”
“You won’t.”
Back at the intersection, Granger turned Alicia’s bag upside down. Pens. Receipts. Water bottle. Notebook. Road map. Portable charger. Nothing dramatic. Then Mason opened the notebook. He laughed initially.
“Tourist stuff.”
Store hours. Church schedules. Road names. Parking patterns. Then he turned more pages. His expression changed.
“Sergeant.”
Granger grabbed the notebook. One sentence was circled: Identify the chain before confronting the incident. Another page: Patterns matter more than isolated explanations. Another: One unlawful arrest may be misconduct. Repetition plus coordination may indicate conspiracy.
Granger looked up. Alicia stared back.
“Who are you?”
No answer. He turned more pages. Shift changes. Patrol numbers. Vehicle locations. Businesses where complaints originated. Times cameras appeared to deactivate. His face lost color. Derek looked over his shoulder.
“What is it?”
“Somebody’s been watching us.”
The atmosphere changed. Granger looked toward the convenience store. Then toward the alley. Sharon. Gone. He turned back toward Alicia.
“What agency?”
She said nothing. He stepped closer.
“State?”
Silence.
“Internal Affairs?”
Nothing.
“Federal?”
Alicia’s expression remained unreadable. Granger grabbed her by the front of the sweatshirt again.
“Answer me.”
She looked at his hand.
“No.”
For the first time, Derek stopped smiling. Sloan stepped closer.
“Put her in the cruiser.”
Alicia looked toward the highway. Nothing. No SUVs. No lights. Just ordinary traffic under a clear Georgia sky. Her watch vibrated once.
TEAM INBOUND.
She exhaled. Hold. That was all. Hold.
Derek grabbed her arm.
“Move.”
He guided her toward the rear seat. Alicia stopped beside the open door. The steel cage waited inside. Derek leaned close.
“You know what happens once that door closes?”
“No.”
“You disappear into paperwork.”
Alicia turned slightly.
“Not today.”
He laughed.
“You really believe somebody’s coming.”
She said nothing. Nine minutes.
At the Atlanta operations center, Samuel watched the GPS icons. Then another screen flashed. Traffic accident. Route blocked. Delay eight minutes. Monica looked over.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Samuel reached for the radio.
“Isaac.”
“Go.”
“You just lost Highway 27.”
“How much?”
“Eight minutes.”
Silence. Then Isaac:
“That’s too long.”
Samuel knew. Back in Red Creek, Granger walked toward Alicia. He had become angrier as control slipped. Normal people begged once they were cuffed. Alicia did not. Normal people explained themselves desperately. She did not. Normal people started fearing the station. Alicia seemed to be waiting for something.
Granger pointed toward her face.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I’m not.”
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
“Then why are you so calm?”
Alicia considered him.
“Practice.”
That answer landed wrong. Derek frowned.
“Practice doing what?”
Alicia looked away. Granger snatched her bag again. He shook it violently. Nothing. Then one corner caught on the torn lining. A small leather credential wallet slipped out. It hit the pavement. Opened. The gold shield flashed.
Silence. Derek stared. Mason stopped breathing for a second. Trevor whispered something. Jacob stepped closer. Granger bent down slowly. He picked up the wallet. Read the words. Then looked at Alicia.
FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
His face emptied. Derek laughed nervously.
“Fake.”
Granger said nothing.
“Right?”
Mason stepped closer.
“People buy these online.”
Trevor nodded too quickly.
“Movie prop.”
Jacob stared at the badge. Two years earlier, he had attended a joint task-force training in Atlanta. He remembered federal credentials. Seal placement. Microprinting. Serial structure. His stomach dropped.
“Sergeant.”
Granger ignored him. Jacob spoke again.
“That’s real.”
Derek turned.
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve seen one.”
Granger looked at Alicia.
“You expect me to believe you’re FBI?”
She answered quietly.
“You should return the badge.”
His pride took over before reason could. He tossed it onto the hood of the cruiser.
“Anybody can buy gold plastic.”
Alicia almost looked disappointed. Then the sound came. Low at first. Heavy engines. Multiple. Everyone turned toward the highway. No thunder. No storm clouds. The rumble grew.
A black Chevrolet Suburban appeared at the top of the road. Then another. Then three more. Government plates. Dark windows. Push bars. Derek stared.