“The passenger door is locked. I will unlock that door only.”
Crowe laughed.
“Look at this performance.”
The captain turned.
“Go stand by your cruiser.”
“What?”
“Now.”
Crowe stayed.
The captain’s voice dropped.
“That was not a suggestion.”
Crowe finally walked backward.
Serena pressed the passenger-door unlock.
The captain moved around the front of the sedan.
Opened the passenger door carefully.
Picked up the leather wallet.
He looked at it.
His face changed immediately.
He turned it under the sunlight.
Checked the identification.
Then looked at Serena.
“Special Agent Hail?”
“Yes.”
Crowe shouted from behind:
“It’s fake!”
The captain ignored him.
He removed his phone.
Dialed the secure verification contact printed inside the credentials.
Three minutes later, he ended the call.
The highway felt completely still.
He walked back toward the driver’s side.
Then looked at Crowe.
“Turn around.”
Crowe laughed.
“What?”
“Turn around.”
The laughter disappeared.
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you are being temporarily disarmed pending investigation.”
Crowe’s face flushed.
“You can’t do that.”
“I can secure you at an active scene where federal credentials have been verified and you ignored direct orders to disengage.”
Crowe looked at Serena.
“This is because of her.”
The captain stepped closer.
“Turn around.”
Crowe’s hand moved instinctively toward his belt.
Every deputy immediately tensed.
The captain said:
“Do not.”
Crowe stopped.
His hand slowly moved away.
Then another sound came from the west.
Engines.
Several.
Two black SUVs crested the rise.
No lights.
No sirens.
They approached quickly, slowing as they neared the scene.
Crowe stared.
Serena recognized the first vehicle.
Regional response team.
The second carried field-office command staff.
Crowe whispered:
“You have got to be kidding.”
Serena did not answer.
The SUVs stopped.
Four people exited.
Two agents moved to the sedan.
Another approached the sheriff’s captain.
The final person remained near the vehicles.
The lead federal supervisor was a compact woman in her fifties wearing a charcoal suit despite the heat.
She looked at Serena.
“Are you injured?”
“No.”
“Weapon discharged?”
“No.”
“Physical contact?”
“Not yet.”
Crowe shouted:
“She refused lawful orders!”
The supervisor turned slowly.
“Are you Officer Crowe?”
He lifted his chin.
“Yes.”
She looked at the sheriff’s captain.
“Has he been disarmed?”
“Not yet.”
Crowe stepped backward.
“Hold on.”
The federal supervisor’s voice remained level.
“Officer Crowe, remove your duty belt and place it on the hood of your cruiser.”
“You don’t have authority over me.”
The sheriff’s captain answered:
“I do.”
Crowe looked between them.
“You’re all losing your minds.”
The captain said:
“Belt.”
Crowe’s face hardened.