“For what?”
Keller gestured toward Naomi.
“For this.”
Nathan looked at the badge on the pavement.
“Lieutenant, Agent Brooks’ review began three weeks before you assaulted her in front of twelve witnesses.”
That sentence changed the faces around them.
Three weeks.
Naomi had been investigating before today.
This was not a reaction.
Not revenge.
Not improvisation.
Keller realized the same thing.
His shoulders dropped half an inch.
Nathan continued:
“If anything, what happened here just created a separate issue.”
Keller swallowed.
“What issue?”
Nathan did not answer.
Naomi did.
“Witness intimidation.”
Keller laughed.
Too quickly.
“She wasn’t a witness.”
Naomi stared.
The laugh died.
Nathan asked:
“How would you know?”
Silence.
Keller’s mistake hung between them.
Naomi watched him understand it.
He had answered from inside knowledge.
Not enough to prove anything alone.
Enough to note.
Nathan turned toward Sergeant Grant.
“Sergeant, please retrieve Agent Brooks’ credentials.”
Grant moved immediately.
Keller said:
“I’ll get them.”
Nathan’s voice sharpened.
“No.”
Keller stopped.
Grant walked across the pavement.
Picked up the wallet.
Brushed dirt from the leather.
Returned.
She handed it to Naomi.
Their eyes met.
Grant whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
Naomi nodded once.
“Thank you.”
Nathan faced the task force.
“Everyone inside.”
Nobody moved for half a second.
Then chairs scraped through the open garage area.
Car doors closed.
Officers began walking toward the operations wing.
Keller remained.
Nathan looked at him.
“You too.”
Keller said:
“I want counsel.”
Nathan nodded.
“That may be wise.”
The words followed Keller all the way inside.
The task-force operations room occupied the fourth floor.
Twenty desks.
Glass briefing room.
Digital evidence wall.
Secure filing area.
Two interview rooms.
City personnel on one side.
Federal and state analysts on the other.
For years, Keller had controlled the space through presence alone.
He sat at the head of the morning brief.
He approved tactical assignments.
He decided who spoke.
He decided who was interrupted.
People entered his office before making decisions that technically did not require his approval.
That kind of power rarely appears in policy manuals.
It grows through habit.
Naomi saw it within five minutes.
Officers instinctively waited for Keller to sit first.
Then remembered.
Keller was no longer standing at the front.
He had been directed to remain in a separate conference room pending consultation with city legal counsel.
Naomi entered the main operations room.
Every conversation stopped.
Nathan stood beside her.
She did not like ceremonial introductions.
So she kept it short.
“My name is Naomi Brooks.”
Everyone knew now.
“I’ve been assigned as federal supervisory lead for this task force.”
She looked around.
“I’m not here to replace competent police work.”
Several officers shifted.
“I’m not here to turn every disagreement into discipline.”
A few faces softened.
“And I’m not interested in rumors.”
That mattered.
Naomi continued.
“I am interested in records.”
Silence.
“Records don’t care who is popular.”
“They don’t care who has twenty-five years on.”
“They don’t care who wins elections.”
“They don’t care who gets invited to the mayor’s Christmas party.”
A few officers looked toward one another.
Naomi noticed.
“Over the last three weeks, federal review identified significant inconsistencies involving controlled evidence, confidential-source payments, overtime reimbursement, and digital retention.”