Just make sure your body camera is still recording. Stanton paced aggressively back and forth across the sidewalk, speaking frantically into his shoulder radio. Dispatch, this is unit 4. I need a supervisor at my location immediately. Suspect vehicle is secured.
Suspect is in custody following an attempted assault on an officer. Arthur knelt on the grass. The sharp scent of antifreeze burning his nostrils. He analyzed the situation with cold, calculating precision. His deep cover operation was undoubtedly compromised now.
The local news would have a field day with a Ferrari crash in this neighborhood. However, an entirely different kind of operation was about to unfold. The FBI's public corruption unit had been looking into the Oakbrook Department for months regarding a string of highly suspicious asset forfeitures and excessive force claims. Stanton had just served himself up on a silver platter. 10 minutes later, the whale of approaching sirens signaled the arrival of backup.
Two more cruisers screeched to a halt, followed closely by an unmarked black SUV. Out of the SUV stepped Sergeant Philip Okconor, a heavily built man with a permanent scowl known for protecting his officers at all costs. Okconor took one look at the mangled Ferrari, the hissing fluids, and the handcuffed black man kneeling on the grass and ran a hand over his face. Stanton, what in God's name happened here? Traffic stop.
Sarge. Stanton lied smoothly, regaining his arrogant composure. And now that backup had arrived. Suspect was driving erratically. Suspected narcotics trafficking.
When I initiated a standard search for officer safety, the vehicle unexpectedly surged forward. I suspect he installed a remote kill switch or a mechanical trap to destroy evidence. Okconor looked at the ruined car, clearly skeptical of the absurd story, but he turned his hardened gaze toward Arthur. Is that right? You think you can rig a car to try and take out my officers?
Arthur remained silent for a long moment, letting the weight of the officer's hubris settle into the air. He looked up at Okconor, his expression entirely unreadable. Sergeant Okconor, I presume. Arthur finally spoke, his tone crisp and professional. Okconor narrowed his eyes.
Yeah. Who's asking? Before you proceed with processing this scene based on Officer Stanton's fabricated report, I strongly suggest you open the trunk of my vehicle. If the release mechanism is broken, you can access it through the rear passenger seats, Arthur instructed. I don't take orders from Pers, Okconor growled.