Chapter 3 - The Secret in the Pocket
Reyes stumbled backward, his face flushing a violent, mottled purple as he fumbled for his utility belt. His hands were shaking so badly he dropped the handcuff key twice against the asphalt before finally catching it.
"I... I didn't know, Captain," Reyes stammered, the arrogant swagger completely evaporated, replaced by the pathetic whimpering of a cornered bully. "She wasn't in uniform. She said she was—how was I supposed to know—"
"By reading the holographic seal on the federal identification card you stole, you arrogant jackass," Vance roared, stepping into Reyes's personal space with such force that the sergeant instinctively shrank back.
The click of the cuffs releasing felt like a physical weight lifting off my shoulders. I rubbed my wrists, the skin hot and bruised where the steel had bitten deep. Without a word, I reached out, plucked my gold shield out of Vance's hand, and slid it back into my leather wallet with a sharp snap.
"Where is my burner phone, Sergeant?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave into a low, menacing purr.
Reyes swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. He slowly reached into his tactical vest pocket and pulled out my secure device, holding it out on the flat of his palm like an offering to an angry deity.
I snatched it off his hand. The screen was still lit.
My earpiece buzzed instantly. Torres! Report! We lost visual on the target three minutes ago near the rail yard. What’s your position?
"I'm mobile," I murmured into the collar mic, turning my back on the shivering local officers. "Reyes just blew our hard perimeter. Re-routing to the rail yard now. Tell tactical to lock down every exit gate immediately."
"Agent Torres," Captain Vance said, stepping up beside me, his expression a mask of desperate apology. "Please. Let me assemble a rapid-response unit right now. We can intercept that convoy before—"
"Your precinct has done quite enough today, Captain," I interrupted, cutting him off with a look that stopped him cold. "If your men spent half as much time running license plates as they did harassing undercover agents, maybe human trafficking rings wouldn't use downtown Atlanta as a drive-thru."
I didn't wait for his reply. I turned on my heel and walked rapidly toward my unmarked Ford Explorer parked illegally across the red curb.
As I pulled out into traffic, tires squealing against the concrete, I glanced in my rearview mirror. Captain Vance was still standing in the middle of the street, screaming something red-faced at Reyes, while the other officers looked on in stunned silence.
They thought the worst part of their day was over.
May you like
They had no idea that by stalling me for ten minutes, Viktor Vane's convoy had just slipped out of the city limits—and left behind a piece of evidence that changed the entire scope of the federal investigation.
---
