Stopped.
Saluted.
“Ma’am.”
The Police Officer’s face went blank.
The Senior Officer returned the salute.
“Status?”
The Aide answered:
“Joint command is assembled.”
“Communications?”
“Established.”
“Local perimeter?”
The Aide glanced toward the Police Officer.
Then back.
“Apparently not.”
The partner swallowed.
The Senior Aide opened the folder.
“Local law enforcement liaison was instructed to report directly to you twenty minutes ago.”
The first officer stared at the Black woman.
Then at his partner.
Then at the personnel standing at attention.
The water blaster looked absurd in his hands now.
The Senior Officer looked at him.
“You were right about one thing.”
The officer did not speak.
She continued.
“Somebody here did not understand the chain of command.”
The partner closed his eyes briefly.
The first officer tried to recover.
“Nobody told me she was running this.”
The Senior Aide looked toward him.
“The coordination memo did.”
“I didn't see it.”
“Your department acknowledged receipt.”
“My supervisor handles that.”
The Aide glanced toward his folder.
“Your name is listed as checkpoint lead.”
The officer’s face changed again.
He looked at his partner.
The partner looked away.
The Senior Officer asked:
“Did you receive a briefing this morning?”
The officer hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Did you read it?”
Silence.
The answer was obvious.
The Senior Officer nodded.
“Put the toy down.”
This time he obeyed.
He placed the water blaster on the pavement.
Nobody laughed.
That almost made it worse.
The Senior Officer stepped toward the tape.
The Police Officer moved aside.
She stopped beside him.
“Officer.”
He looked at her.
“You will remain at this checkpoint until your supervisor arrives.”
His face tightened.
“You can’t order me.”
She looked at him.
“No.”
“I can’t.”
He seemed relieved.
Then she continued.
“But your supervisor can.”
As if summoned by the sentence, another patrol SUV turned onto the street.
The Police Officer muttered something under his breath.
The Senior Aide heard.
Said nothing.
The local Police Supervisor stepped out.
He was older.
Gray at the temples.
His expression already suggested somebody had called him.
He walked toward the checkpoint.
“What happened?”
Nobody answered immediately.
The Supervisor looked at the Black Senior Officer.
Then the Aide.
Then the water blaster lying on the pavement.
Then the wet uniform.
He stared at the first officer.
“What happened?”
The first officer spoke quickly.
“She refused commands.”
The Black Senior Officer said nothing.
The Supervisor looked toward the partner.
“You.”
The partner swallowed.
“She was verified.”
The first officer turned sharply.
“Watch yourself.”
The Supervisor raised one hand.