“County personnel are not to be treated as hostile absent independent cause.”
The voice answered:
“Confirmed.”
Sarah continued.
“Notify state police professional standards.”
“Confirmed.”
“Notify county counsel.”
“Confirmed.”
“And preserve all communications associated with my detention.”
“Confirmed.”
Sarah looked at her phone.
“Device status?”
“Tamper signal active before isolation.”
“Copy.”
She ended the call.
The room remained silent.
The wall clock ticked.
A printer began producing something in dispatch.
One fluorescent light flickered near the rear door.
Boone stared at Sarah.
Then laughed.
It came out thin.
Artificial.
“Brigadier general.”
Sarah placed the landline receiver back on its cradle.
“Yes.”
“United States Army.”
“Yes.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Sarah looked toward the paperwork on his desk.
“My identification is approximately twelve inches from your right hand.”
Boone glanced down.
He shoved aside one booking form.
Then another.
The military card appeared.
He picked it up.
Really looked this time.
His expression changed.
A dispatcher whispered:
“Oh my God.”
The red emergency telephone on Boone’s desk began ringing.
Everyone jumped.
Boone stared at it.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He did not answer.
Sarah looked at him.
“You should probably take that.”
The phone rang again.
Boone lifted the receiver.
“Hawthorne County Sheriff Boone.”
He listened.
His face went pale.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Yes, sir.”
Longer pause.
“No, sir, she’s not injured.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow.
Evan looked toward the bruising beginning to form around her wrists.
Boone saw him.
Corrected himself.
“She appears conscious and stable.”
He listened again.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
The sheriff sat slowly.
“Understood.”
He hung up.
Nobody asked.
They did not need to.
Then the floor vibrated.
At first, barely enough to notice.
A water glass on Boone’s desk trembled.
Ripples moved across the surface.
One dispatcher looked toward the ceiling.
“What is that?”
The vibration deepened.
WHUMP.
WHUMP.
WHUMP.
Low.
Heavy.
Rhythmic.
Evan walked toward the lobby windows.
Sarah remained seated.
Boone stood.
The ceiling panels shivered.
Dust drifted from a vent.
The sound increased until normal conversation became difficult.
One dispatcher shouted:
“Helicopters!”
Boone looked toward Sarah.
She said nothing.
A massive shadow passed over the blinds.
Then another.