He stepped closer to her.
“Ortiz, I said I've got it.”
The young deputy lowered her eyes.
But I saw something important.
She wasn't convinced.
Devlin opened the rear cruiser door.
“Get in.”
I looked toward Ortiz.
“Deputy, my credentials are on the shoulder near the front wheel. Please ensure they're preserved and verified.”
The young woman glanced toward the gravel.
Then toward her sergeant.
She nodded almost imperceptibly.
Devlin grabbed my upper arm.
“Stop talking.”
He shoved me into the cruiser.
The door slammed.
I sat sideways on the hard rear seat, my wrists restrained behind me, trying to find a position that didn't aggravate the pressure against my shoulders.
Through the rear window, I watched Devlin return to my sedan.
Ortiz remained near the cruiser.
For several seconds, she looked toward me.
Then her eyes moved toward the roadside gravel.
Slowly, she walked toward the identification card.
She bent.
Picked it up.
And examined it beneath her flashlight.
Her expression changed.
She looked toward the sergeant.
Then toward the card again.
I couldn't hear what she said over the idling engine.
But I saw her lift her radio.
Devlin turned sharply.
He shouted something.
She lowered the radio.
For a moment, I feared she would simply obey.
Then she adjusted the body camera mounted on her uniform.
A tiny indicator light remained visible.
I watched her take a slow breath.
She looked toward my sedan.
Devlin had opened the driver's door.
He reached inside.
Then emerged holding the sealed briefing case.
I felt cold.
I leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed.
“SERGEANT!”
He turned.
I raised my voice.
“That case contains controlled federal material. Do not open it. Contact the duty office immediately.”
He stared.
Then smiled.
He placed the case on the hood.
Examined the lock.
And removed a tool from his belt.
Deputy Ortiz stepped toward him.
“Sergeant, we should stop and verify the credentials.”
Devlin glared at her.
“Back off.”
“Sir—”
“I gave you an order.”
She stood still.
For a moment, the two officers stared at each other.
Then Devlin turned toward the case.
He pushed against the lock.
Metal scraped.
I felt my stomach tighten.
A damaged secure case would create consequences far beyond an improper traffic stop.
But the immediate danger was simpler.