The Sergeant looked at him.
"No injuries?"
The younger officer glanced toward the red mark already forming on the Black driver's wrist.
"None requiring medical attention."
The Sergeant rolled his eyes.
The dispatcher asked for the detained driver's name.
The younger officer read it from the license.
There was a pause.
Then the dispatcher repeated the name.
The younger officer confirmed it.
Another pause.
Longer.
The Sergeant looked toward his cruiser.
"What?"
Dispatch returned.
"Unit Twelve, hold position."
The Sergeant grabbed his microphone.
"We're already holding."
"Do not transport."
The Sergeant frowned.
"Why?"
"Watch command is contacting you."
The Sergeant looked at the Black driver.
The driver said nothing.
The Sergeant stepped closer.
"You call somebody?"
The driver raised his cuffed hands slightly.
"With what?"
The customer filming laughed.
The Sergeant glared at him.
"Back up."
The younger officer looked away.
A phone rang inside the Sergeant's cruiser.
He walked over and answered.
The younger officer remained with the detained man.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then the younger officer said quietly, "Sir, did you request command?"
The Black driver looked at him.
"No."
"Do you know why they're calling?"
"Probably."
The younger officer waited.
The Black man gave him nothing else.
Across the parking lot, the Sergeant's voice rose.
"What do you mean, don't move?"
He listened.
"No, he was obstructing."
Another pause.
"He questioned the stop."
The Black driver looked toward the younger officer.
The younger officer's face changed.
Questioning a stop was not obstruction.
Both men knew that.
The Sergeant hung up.
He returned slowly.
"Take the cuffs off."
The younger officer looked at him.
"What?"
"You heard me."
The younger officer reached for the key.
The Sergeant added quickly, "We're issuing a warning."
The Black driver turned his head.
"A warning for what?"
The Sergeant's jaw tightened.
"Improper lane movement."
The driver looked toward the sedan.
"My vehicle never crossed a lane line."
The Sergeant pointed.
"You want to keep going?"
The Black driver stared at him.
"No."
The younger officer removed the cuffs.
Red marks circled both wrists.
The driver rubbed one hand.
The Sergeant handed back his license.
"Get in your car and leave."
The driver took it.
Then held out his hand.
"Registration."
The Sergeant had forgotten he was still holding it.
He gave it back.
The Black driver slipped both documents into his jacket.
Then he looked at the younger officer.
"Your body camera was recording from the moment you arrived?"
"Yes, sir."
"Preserve it."