The Officer looked toward his patrol vehicle.
Then toward the growing crowd.
Phones were everywhere now.
People recording.
The FBI Agent glanced toward the target building.
“Supervisor.”
The Federal Supervisor turned.
Target Two was running.
“Go.”
Two agents sprinted across the street.
The man with the briefcase ran toward the parking garage.
Another federal vehicle cut him off.
Agents converged.
The Federal Supervisor watched for two seconds.
Then looked back at the local officers.
Something bothered him.
Not the collision.
Not even the fight.
Timing.
The police cruiser had arrived at the exact moment Target One exited.
That was too precise.
He looked at the Lead Officer.
“Who sent you?”
The Officer frowned.
“What?”
“Who dispatched you?”
“We got a call.”
“From who?”
“Suspicious person.”
The Federal Supervisor’s expression changed.
“What description?”
The Officer hesitated.
“Male.”
“Keep going.”
“Large build.”
“Keep going.”
“Standing beside a black vehicle.”
The Supervisor looked at the street.
Hundreds of men could fit that description.
“What was he supposedly doing?”
The Officer’s mouth tightened.
“Potential vehicle theft.”
The Supervisor looked at his car.
“You believed I was stealing the car I was leaning against?”
“We were told the vehicle might be stolen.”
“Plate check?”
The Officer said nothing.
The FBI Agent stepped closer.
“You checked the plate before contact?”
The second Officer looked away.
The Supervisor saw it.
“You didn’t.”
The Lead Officer said:
“We didn't have time.”
“You had time to ram it.”
The Officer clenched his jaw.
The Federal Supervisor looked toward the patrol cruiser.
“Give me the dispatch number.”
The Lead Officer shook his head.
“This is a local matter.”
The FBI Agent almost laughed.
“No. It stopped being local when you drove into a federal operation.”
The Federal Supervisor raised one hand.
“Don't argue.”
He looked at the second Officer.
“What was the call number?”
The younger Officer gave it.
The Lead Officer shot him a look.
Too late.
The FBI Agent typed into her phone.
“Control, pull city dispatch event 4417.”
A voice answered through her earpiece.
“Working.”
The Federal Supervisor looked toward the target building again.
Agents had detained Target Two.
Target One remained under surveillance.
The immediate operation might survive.
But something larger was wrong.
Two minutes later, federal control answered.
“Supervisor.”
“Go.”
“The city call does not exist in public dispatch.”
The Federal Supervisor looked at the Officers.
The Lead Officer’s expression changed.
The second Officer frowned.
“What do you mean?”
The FBI Agent asked:
“No CAD entry?”
“Negative.”
The Federal Supervisor looked directly at the Lead Officer.
“Who sent you?”
The Officer shook his head.
“We got it over radio.”
“From dispatch?”