But he was.
Mitchell patted Derek down.
Aggressively.
Jacket.
Waist.
Pockets.
Ankle.
Derek said:
“My identification is inside my jacket.”
Mitchell froze.
“Where?”
“Inner left pocket.”
“Gun?”
“Yes.”
Mitchell stepped back instantly and drew his pistol.
Nolan’s hand went to his own holster but did not draw.
Mitchell shouted:
“Gun!”
Derek remained perfectly still.
“I told you there is a weapon.”
“Hands up!”
“They are already on the roof.”
“Higher!”
Derek lifted them slightly.
Mitchell’s pistol was now pointed toward his back.
Nolan said:
“Sergeant, he disclosed it.”
“I know what he did.”
“Then let me retrieve it.”
“No.”
Mitchell moved closer.
Derek felt the muzzle’s presence without seeing it.
He spoke carefully.
“The firearm is holstered at my left side beneath the jacket.”
Mitchell pulled the jacket aside.
He saw the weapon.
Professional holster.
Retention system.
Not something common for casual carry.
Mitchell hesitated.
Then his eyes moved upward.
Toward the inside jacket pocket.
A black leather credentials wallet sat partly visible.
Derek saw the recognition begin.
Not understanding yet.
Just concern.
Mitchell reached toward it.
Derek said:
“Retrieve the credential wallet first.”
Mitchell looked at him.
“Shut up.”
He pulled out the wallet.
Derek turned his head.
“Open it.”
Mitchell’s eyes narrowed.
“Face forward.”
“Open it.”
“Face forward.”
Nolan had stepped closer now.
“What is it?”
Mitchell ignored him.
He flipped the wallet open.
Gold seal.
FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION.
Photograph.
Name.
SPECIAL AGENT DEREK HAYES.
For the first time since the patrol lights appeared behind the Lamborghini, Wade Mitchell became completely still.
Nolan saw the credential.
His face changed.
“Jesus.”
Mitchell stared at the badge.
Then at Derek.
Then back down.
Derek slowly lowered his arms.
Mitchell raised the pistol again.
“Hands back up.”
Derek looked at him.
“You know who I am now.”
“I know what this says.”
“It’s real.”
“Could be fake.”
Nolan stared at his sergeant.
“Come on.”
Mitchell’s eyes flicked toward him.
“Stay out of it.”
“No.”
That was the first time Nolan said it.
Quietly.
But clearly.
Mitchell looked genuinely surprised.
Nolan pointed toward the credentials.
“We verify.”
Mitchell’s jaw tightened.
“I’m in command here.”
“Then command a verification.”
The traffic behind them changed.
Derek noticed before either officer did.
One black Chevrolet Tahoe moved onto the shoulder half a mile back.
Then another.
No lights.
Dark windows.
A third followed.
Derek closed his eyes for half a second.
So the alert had worked.