I told you I had committed no crime. I cited the law, and you decided that my compliance was not enough. You decided that my skin and my presence in your jurisdiction were probable cause for assault. I was doing my job, Mercer pleaded, a desperate, pathetic whine creeping into his tone. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake.
It was not a mistake, David corrected him sharply. A mistake is a misread license plate. A mistake is writing the wrong date on a citation. What you did was an execution of prejudice. You felt untouchable.
But tonight, officer, the darkness did not hide you. Before Mercer could form another excuse, a deafening rhythmic thumping filled the air. Hovering just 100 ft above the treeine. A twin engine state police bell 429 helicopter cut through the storm. Its massive search light beamed down, pinning the gas station in an inescapable circle of blinding white light.
The downdraft whipped the rain into a horizontal frenzy, knocking over empty trash cans and sending loose debris skittering across the asphalt. The helicopter didn't land. There wasn't enough clearance, but it maintained a low, aggressive hover, a massive display of state power. Moments later, a convoy of three unmarked black to hose roared into the lot, tires smoking as they slammed on their brakes. The doors flew open, and Captain Arthur Pendleton stepped out into the storm.
He didn't bother with a raincoat. His face was a mask of unadulterated fury. He walked past the detained local officer without even breaking stride, his eyes locked entirely on the governor. Sir, Pendleton said, his voice carrying over the roar of the rotor blades. Are you harmed?
I am fine, Arthur, David assured him, offering a weary but genuine smile. Though I suspect your blood pressure is another matter entirely. My blood pressure is currently a matter of state emergency, Pendleton replied grimly. He glanced at David's wrists, noting the deep red grooves left by the cuffs. Pendleton's jaw clenched so tightly the muscle ticked.
He turned slowly on his heel, finally acknowledging the local officer pinned to the hood. "Sergeant Miller," Pendleton barked. "Sir, disarm that man. Strip him of his badge, his belt, and his radio. Put him in the back of Interceptor 2.
If he speaks a single word, gag him. Wait, you can't do this. Mercer panicked, struggling slightly against the troopers. I'm a sworn officer of Oak Haven County. I have Union representation.