It was carrying 1.2 million dollars in serialized traceable federal funds. Freshly withdrawn from the Chicago Reserve. It was bait, Robert. And your boys took it hook, line, and sinker. Hayes' knees practically gave out.
He grabbed the edge of the desk to steady himself. Captain Robert Hayes, Agent Lawson announced, stepping forward with handcuffs. You are under arrest for racketeering, extortion, and conspiracy to violate federal civil rights. As the steel cuffs clicked around Hayes's wrists, David turned his attention to the rest of the precinct. "Tear this place apart. " David ordered the tactical team.
"I want the server racks dismantled. I want every body camera downloaded. I want the ceiling tiles checked. If there is a single paperclip unaccounted for in this building, I want to know about it. " By 6:00 a.m. The sun was beginning to peek over the concrete skyline of Chicago.
Inside the Dirksen Federal Building, the atmosphere was sterile and freezing cold. David Caldwell stood in the observation room holding a steaming cup of black coffee. Through the two-way glass, he watched Officer Brian Collins sitting alone at a metal table in interrogation room A. The young cop was a mess. He was crying silently, his face buried in his hands, completely stripped of his gun belt, badge, and the false courage that his uniform had provided hours earlier.
In interrogation room B, down the hall, Officer Greg Miller was pacing like a caged animal, screaming at the walls and demanding to speak to John Dugan, his Fraternal Order of Police union representative. David took a sip of his coffee. Divide and conquer. It was the oldest play in the federal playbook, but it worked flawlessly every time. He opened the heavy steel door to room A and stepped inside.
Collins flinched violently at the sound of the latch. David didn't sit down immediately. He walked over to the corner of the room, turned off the harsh overhead fluorescent light, and clicked on a softer desk lamp. He then pulled out a chair and sat across from the weeping officer. "Breathe, Brian. " David said softly.
It wasn't an order. It was a suggestion. Collins looked up, his eyes bloodshot. Director Caldwell, I swear to God, I didn't want to pull you over. Greg Miller, he's my training officer.
He tells me what to do. If I don't back him up, he files a report saying I'm a coward. I just wanted to be a cop. I believe you, David said calmly, placing a fresh manila folder on the table. I reviewed your file while you were in transport.
24 years old. Clean record in the academy. No prior excessive force complaints. You've only been riding with Miller for 3 months. He's crazy, sir, Collins whispered, leaning forward as if the walls were listening.