"Unlock the doors. Do it now. " Miller commanded his weapon unwavering. Mercer slapped the master unlock switch. Immediately, two troopers ripped the driver's door open. They didn't ask him to step out.
They hauled him out. Mercer was dragged into the freezing rain, spun around, and slammed face first onto the wet hood of his own cruiser. In seconds, he felt his arms yanked behind his back. The cold steel of a fellow officer's handcuffs bit into his wrists, a perfectly cruel mirror of what he had done just 20 minutes prior. While Mercer was being neutralized, the other two troopers sprinted to the rear of the cruiser.
Trooper Hayes wrenched the back door open. Governor David Caldwell sat in the cramped plastic back seat, his face illuminated by the strobing blue lights. Despite the raw red indentations on his wrists and the lingering adrenaline spiking his heart rate, his expression remained remarkably composed. He looked up at the trooper. "Governor Caldwell, are you injured, sir? " Hayes asked, his voice tight with professional concern as he leaned in.
"I'm all right, trooper," David replied smoothly, though his shoulders achd from the unnatural angle, just a bit cramped. "The cuffs are quite tight. We'll have them off in 3 seconds, sir. " Hayes reached to his belt, pulling out his universal handcuff key. He slid into the back seat, carefully guiding David's hands upward to accesses the keyholes. With two sharp clicks, the tension broke.
David brought his arms forward, wincing slightly as blood rushed back into his hands. He rubbed his wrists, taking a deep breath of the damp air rushing in through the open door. Sir, we need to get you to my vehicle immediately, Hayes instructed, offering a hand to help the governor out of the low seat. Captain Pendleton is inbound. We have a secure perimeter.
Thank you, Hayes, David said, stepping out into the rain. He didn't immediately rush to the safety of the state police interceptor. Instead, he stood tall, the rain soaking his faded Georgetown hoodie, and turned his gaze toward the hood of the local cruiser. Mercer was pinned there, shivering uncontrollably, his cheek pressed against the wet metal. He looked up, his eyes meeting the governors.
All of Mercer's previous swagger, the arrogant cruelty he had wielded like a weapon, had evaporated. He looked exactly like what he was, a bully who had just realized the victim he chose was the most powerful man in the state. "Governor," Mercer choked out, his voice cracking. "I I swear to God, I thought the vehicle was stolen. You didn't identify yourself. " David walked slowly toward the front of the cruiser.
Sergeant Miller stepped aside, but kept his hand firmly on Mercer's shoulder, keeping him pinned. I did identify myself, Officer Mercer, David said, his voice cutting through the noise of the idling engines. It wasn't a yell. It was a cold, devastating statement of fact. I identified myself as a citizen of this state.