He stared at the badge like it might disappear if he refused to believe it. "No, this ain't— This can't be right. Nobody told us. Nobody said anything about a new captain moving in."
"Would it have mattered?" Mackie asked quietly. Petrov didn't answer. He was still holding the cuffs. He was still gripping Mackie's wrist.
Then he seemed to realize it. He let go so fast it was like Mackie's arm had turned to fire. Bishop, still near the truck, looked like he might be sick. He'd gone pale.
His mouth was slightly open, staring at the badge in his fellow officer's hand like it had rewritten everything that had just happened in front of him. The other unnamed officer took a full step back, putting distance between himself and Petrov like proximity itself was now a liability. "Sir, I— We didn't know," Petrov stammered. "There was a call, a report."
"We were just responding to—" "There was no call," Mackie said. "You made that up. Same as you made up the reason you stopped me last week while I was jogging." He looked directly at him.
"I remember you, Officer Petrov. I remember exactly how that went too." Petrov's face twitched at that. Something flickered behind his eyes.
The memory landed. The shame of it caught up to him in front of his own men. "Sir, I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding," Petrov tried again. His voice shifted now.
Softer. Reaching for something friendlier. "We can straighten this all out. No harm done, right? Nobody got hurt."
Mackie looked at him for a long moment before answering. "You had four officers surround an unarmed man in his own driveway. You put your hands on me. You said you were going to teach me respect."
"That happened. It doesn't stop being true because you found out who I am." "I was doing my job," Petrov said. Something ugly crept back into his voice now, defensive instead of afraid.
"You can't blame me for doing my job." "This wasn't your job," Mackie said. "This was you deciding I needed to be put in my place." His eyes stayed on Petrov's.
"That's not the same thing. You know it." Petrov's jaw worked. For a second, Mackie watched something happen behind the man's eyes.
Not remorse. Not shame. Calculation. He could see Petrov doing the math.
Already working out how bad this could get for him. Already looking for the angle that would let him walk away clean. "Look," Petrov said slowly. "Let's not make this bigger than it has to be."
Mackie lowered his hands for the first time since the cruisers arrived, calm and unhurried. "I'll decide how big this is." Petrov's mouth opened, then shut again. He looked at the other officers, searching for support.