Then asked, “What kind of government employee drives a car like this?”
I took a breath.
“I'm a federal official traveling on active duty.”
He laughed.
“Of course you are.”
I reached carefully toward my identification.
“Sergeant, I can provide credentials and a contact number for verification.”
His expression changed again.
Not with recognition.
With irritation.
He held out his hand.
I gave him the card.
He examined it.
The holographic features reflected his flashlight.
He turned it over.
Then laughed.
“NSA?”
“Yes.”
“You expect me to believe you're some kind of spy?”
“No, Sergeant. I'm a senior federal official, and I'm asking you to verify my identity through the appropriate office.”
He looked toward the vehicle.
“Senior official?”
“Yes.”
He smiled unpleasantly.
“Driving alone in an evening dress?”
I could hear the contempt.
I chose not to respond to it.
“Sergeant, if you contact the duty office, they can confirm the necessary information.”
He studied the card again.
Then said, “Step out.”
I nodded.
“Certainly. Before I do, I need to advise you that I'm lawfully carrying an agency-authorized sidearm secured beneath my jacket.”
The formal jacket had been draped over my shoulders when I left the gala.
Its tailored design allowed me to carry the equipment required under my protective arrangements.
I had no intention of touching it.
I simply wanted the officer to know before anyone saw the holster and misunderstood.
His eyes sharpened immediately.
“You've got a gun?”
“Yes. I'm informing you so that we can handle this safely.”
“Hands where I can see them.”
“They are.”
“OUT!”
I opened the door carefully.
The cold air struck my bare shoulders as I stepped onto the road.
The sergeant moved closer.
He was much larger than I was.
I stood upright, hands open and visible.
He looked at my evening gown.
Then at the identification card.
Then at my face.
For a moment, I saw him make a decision.
“Turn around.”
I complied.
He removed the sidearm under controlled circumstances, but his handling was rough and unnecessarily aggressive.
Then he ordered me toward the front of the sedan.
I asked him to verify my credentials before taking further action.
That was when he grabbed the back of my jacket.
And slammed me against the hood.