Then the sergeant returned.
"What are you two whispering about?"
"Nothing."
The sergeant looked at the younger officer.
"Go check the taillight."
The younger officer did not move.
The sergeant stared.
"You heard me."
The younger officer walked toward the rear of the sedan.
He looked at the taillight.
It was working.
Both of them were.
He stared at them for several seconds.
Then he walked back.
The sergeant folded his arms.
"Well?"
The younger officer looked at the Black driver.
Then at the sergeant.
"Both lights are functioning."
The sergeant's expression froze.
The Black driver said nothing.
The crowd began murmuring.
The woman recording moved her phone closer.
The sergeant walked behind the sedan himself.
Both taillights glowed red.
He returned slowly.
"It may have been intermittent."
The younger officer said nothing.
The Black driver spoke quietly.
"You said it was out."
The sergeant pointed at him.
"Don't start."
"I haven't started anything."
"You want another charge?"
The Black driver almost smiled.
"For pointing out that my taillight works?"
The sergeant stepped toward him again.
Then three black SUVs appeared at the far end of the street.
They moved quickly.
Not recklessly.
Deliberately.
Traffic began yielding before they reached the scene.
The sergeant looked toward them.
The younger officer did too.
The lead SUV slowed near the patrol cars.
A small flag was mounted near the front fender.
The younger officer's face changed.
The sergeant noticed.
"What?"
The younger officer didn't answer.
The three SUVs stopped.
Doors opened.
Several men and women stepped out.
Some wore dark suits.
Others wore formal uniforms.
One man in uniform moved fastest.
He was middle-aged, composed, and clearly alarmed.
He looked directly toward the Black driver.
Then he saw the handcuffs.
He stopped.
His expression transformed.
"General?"
The word cut through the street.
Every conversation stopped.
The younger officer stared.
The crowd went silent.
The sergeant slowly turned toward the Black driver.
The uniformed aide approached quickly.
He stopped several feet away.
Then, with dozens of phones recording, he snapped into a formal salute.
"General, are you injured?"
The Black driver looked at him calmly.
"No."
The aide's eyes moved to the handcuffs.
"Who restrained you?"
Nobody answered.
He looked toward the police officers.
Then toward the sergeant.