It must have been a mechanical failure. Do not insult my intelligence and do not perure yourself trying to cover his tracks," Arthur replied. His dark eyes locking onto Okconor with a predatory focus. Officer Gregory Stanton conducted an illegal, racially motivated traffic stop. He fabricated the scent of narcotics to bypass my Fourth Amendment rights.
He unlawfully entered a $200,000 piece of federal property completely unprovoked and subsequently destroyed it due to his own negligent rage. Furthermore, he then attempted to falsely charge a federal agent with attempted murder to cover up his catastrophic incompetence. Stanton, pale and trembling, pushed himself off the curb. You set me up. You feds are always trying to entrap local cops.
I know my rights. Your rights? Arthur asked, finally reaching into the trunk and retrieving his FBI credentials. He clipped the gold shield onto his belt, a gesture that definitively shifted the hierarchy of power. Undertis code section 1 3 6 1.
You have just committed the willful depradation of United States government property because the value exceeds $1,000. It is a felony punishable by up to 10 years in federal prison. And that is before we even discuss the civil rights violations, the falsification of a police report, and the assault. Arthur reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a sleek encrypted smartphone. He dialed a secure number, keeping his eyes fixed on the crumbling patrolman.
"Special agent in charge Weaver," Arthur said when the line connected. "This is Pendleton. I need an evidence response team dispatched to my GPS coordinates immediately. Notify the Office of the Inspector General. My cover is blown and a Department of Justice asset has been completely destroyed."
There was a brief pause on the line before the voice of Jonathan Weaver, head of the Chicago field office, crackled through the receiver. "Arthur, are you injured? Who hit you?" "I am uninjured," Arthur replied smoothly. A local Oakbrook patrolman decided to illegally search the vehicle, got his duty belt caught on the gear selector, and launched the car into a retaining wall.
He then attempted to arrest me for it. A heavy sigh echoed through the phone. Secure the perimeter. I am sending three tactical units and a Department of Justice recovery flatbed. Do not let local PD touch a single piece of that wreckage.
Arthur ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He looked at Sergeant Okconor, whose face had gone entirely gray. You are to instruct your dispatch to close off this street. I want crime scene tape around the perimeter. Neither you nor your officers are to approach the vehicle again.