"I'm telling you he's lying," Dugan snapped, his ego clearly bruised by the sergeant's hesitation. "Run his prints. Let's call his bluff. When it comes back to some ex-con from the South Side, I'm adding providing false information to an officer to his charges." "Go ahead," David said softly.
"Run the prints." Miller stood up, grabbed the portable biometric scanner, and walked around the desk. "Give me your right index finger." Dugan unlocked David's right handcuff just enough to free the hand, though he kept a tight bruising grip on David's elbow. David pressed his finger against the glowing green glass of the scanner.
The machine beeped. "All right, it's processing," Miller said, walking back to his desk. "System takes a minute to ping the national database." Dugan leaned in close to David's ear. "You think you're smart, huh?
You think throwing out some fake names is going to scare us? I've dealt with guys like you my whole career. You all think you can talk your way out of anything." "I'm not trying to talk my way out of anything, Officer Dugan," David replied, turning his head slightly to look the man dead in the eye. "I'm just giving you enough rope to hang yourself."
A sudden, sharp chime echoed from the desk sergeant's computer. It wasn't the standard low beep of a local criminal record return. It was a high-pitched, insistent alarm. Miller leaned forward, his brow furrowing as he read the screen. The color rapidly drained from his face.
The screen was flashing red. At the very top, in bold, undeniable letters, was a Department of Justice seal. Beneath it, the text read, "Restricted file. Clearance level six required." Campbell, David James.
Special Agent, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Status, active. Miller swallowed hard. He looked up, his eyes wide with a sudden, dawning terror. He looked at David, standing casually in handcuffs, and then he looked at Dugan, who was still smirking.
"Brian," Miller said, his voice trembling slightly. "Take the cuffs off him." Dugan frowned. "What? No, Sarge.
What did it come back as?" "Take the cuffs off him right now, goddamn it!" Miller shouted, jumping up from his chair. The sudden outburst silenced the entire booking room. Every officer turned to stare.
Dugan, looking bewildered and angry, fumbled for his keys. He aggressively unlocked the cuffs, letting them fall away from David's wrists. David slowly brought his hands forward, rubbing the deep, angry red indentations the metal had left on his skin. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to.
Before anyone else could speak, the heavy wooden door to the captain's office swung open. Captain Richard Reynolds, a stern man in his late 50s, marched out, holding a ringing desk phone in his hand. He looked frantic. "Miller!" Captain Reynolds yelled, his eyes sweeping the room until they landed on David.