Do you have any idea what you have done? We are all going to federal prison. Carter aggressively shoved Miller's hands away, his own panic manifesting as volatile anger. Calm down. You're letting a suspect play mind games with you.
I'm going to go back there and get the truth out of him right now. Before Miller could stop him, Carter stormed down the gray hallway toward the holding cells. He marched up to the iron bars of cell three, slamming his heavy flashlight violently against the metal grate. The deafening clang echoed through the concrete block, but Warren Hayes did not flinch. The general remained perfectly still on the metal bench, his posture impeccable, his expression entirely unbothered.
All right, Hayes, the games are over, Carter snarled, though his voice lacked its previous absolute conviction. I don't know who you paid to hack your fingerprints into the federal system, but it's not going to work. You're going to confess to the fraudulent ID right now, or I'm going to make sure the prosecutor tacks on federal cyber crime charges to your warrant. Warren finally looked up, his dark eyes locking onto Carter's pale, sweating face. The general did not raise his voice.
He did not need to. Officer Carter, Warren said smoothly, in approximately 20 minutes, a very large contingent of heavily armed federal agents and military police officers will walk through the front doors of this precinct. When they do, they are going to take your badge. They are going to take your firearm. And then, they are going to take your freedom.
You have precisely 20 minutes to mentally prepare yourself for the complete and total destruction of the life you currently know. Carter opened his mouth to shout another threat, but the words died in his throat. For the first time all night, looking into the cold, completely unafraid eyes of the man he had arrested, Carter finally realized the catastrophic magnitude of his mistake. The storm arrived in exactly 18 minutes. The quiet atmosphere of the suburban police precinct was violently shattered by roaring engines of three black, heavily armored Chevrolet Suburbans tearing into the front lot.
They bypassed standard parking spaces, pulling onto the concrete sidewalk blocking the main entrance. Behind them, two dark green military police cruisers skidded to a halt. Blue and red lights throwing wild, frantic shadows against the brick walls. The heavy glass doors of the precinct were thrown open with immense force, slamming against interior walls. A dozen men flooded into the lobby.
Half wore dark navy windbreakers of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The other half wore crisp, intimidating tactical uniforms of the United States Army Criminal Investigation Division. At the front walked Colonel Robert Mitchell, a deeply serious military investigator with a perfectly tailored uniform. Beside him was Special Agent Reed from the FBI regional field office. Sergeant Miller stood behind the booking desk, his hands raised in the air as if he were being arrested.
The two patrolmen who had been laughing with Carter moments earlier backed away against the wall terrified. "Who is the commanding officer of this facility?" Colonel Mitchell demanded, his voice echoing like a gunshot. "Chief Henderson is on his way, sir." Miller stammered, body shaking.
"He was called at home." "I do not care about your chief." Mitchell snapped, marching directly up to the desk. "I am Colonel Mitchell, United States Army CID. You are currently holding Major General Warren Hayes against his will.