Subject using fraudulent federal credentials to gain unauthorized access. Could be terrorism. Could be espionage. Could be anything. His voice grew louder, more defensive.
We had reasonable suspicion to detain and verify. Dalton remained perfectly still, her badge case open in her left hand. "What was the exact nature of this anonymous tip? " Briggs's eyes darted toward the federal agents, scattered throughout the crowd. 30 professionals watching his every word, recording his every mistake. Caller reported seeing this individual using what appeared to be fake FBI credentials at a downtown location.
Said he looked suspicious, possibly armed. "When? " Elena's voice cut like a scalpel. When? What? When did you receive this tip, Sergeant Briggs?
Briggs hesitated. Just for a moment. But in a room full of trained investigators, a moment was everything. Earlier today. How much earlier?
Look, lady federal prosecutor "Elena Ward," she corrected sharply. How much earlier, Sergeant? Marcus listened to the exchange while keeping his breathing steady despite the pain in his shoulders. The handcuffs were cutting into his wrists. His wedding jacket was wrinkled and torn.
But his mind was working clearly, analyzing every word coming out of Briggs mouth. Then Briggs made his critical mistake. This is Sergeant Nolan Briggs, Metro Division Financial Crimes Interdiction Unit, he said, his voice rising with authority. He was trying to reclaim. I don't answer to federal prosecutors about local emergency response procedures.
The name hit Marcus like lightning. Nolan Briggs, Metro Financial Crimes. Marcus had seen that name dozens of times over the past 18 months. Bank records, wire transfer logs, business incorporation documents, cash deposit patterns that made no sense until you understood they were being structured to avoid federal reporting requirements. Briggs wasn't just some random cop who had wandered into the wrong wedding.
He was part of the investigation. Marcus turned his head slightly toward Dalton. Their eyes met for just an instant. She was already watching him, reading his expression with the skill of someone who had supervised him through hundreds of cases. Dalton, Marcus said quietly.
Just her name, nothing more. But his voice carried a weight that made her stiffen slightly. She understood immediately. Something about Briggs mattered. Something significant enough that Marcus was willing to signal her in front of a room full of witnesses.