An hour passed. The precinct buzzed with the mundane activities of small town law enforcement. David didn't pace. He didn't yell. He sat with the stillness of a predator waiting in the brush.
Finally, Sergeant Higgins walked over to the cell bars, holding David's black smartphone. All right, Henderson. Law says you get a phone call. You want me to dial a local bondsman or do you have a lawyer? David stood up smoothly and approached the bars.
I'll dial it myself, Sergeant. It's a memorized number. Higgins hesitated, then handed the phone through the bars. 5 minutes. Keep it brief.
Brody leaned back in his desk chair, smirking. Yeah, tell your public defender you're going to need a miracle, buddy. David ignored him. He unlocked the encrypted phone using a biometric scan. He didn't dial a local Oak Haven attorney.
He didn't even dial a lawyer in Atlanta. He dialed a direct unlisted number that rang straight through to an office on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, DC. The line rang twice before a sharp authoritative voice answered, "Pendleton. Arthur Pendleton was the United States Attorney for the Northern District of Georgia, a man appointed by the president and feared by every corrupt politician and dirty cop in the state. He was also a former federal prosecutor who owed his early career survival to a DOJ task force David had commanded.
Arthur, it's David," he said, his voice calm, echoing slightly against the concrete walls of the cell. "David, I thought you were flying back from Atlanta. " "Where are you? " Pendleton's tone shifted immediately from professional annoyance to genuine concern. "I'm currently sitting in a holding cell at the 42nd precinct in Oak Haven, Georgia," David stated flatly. There was a dead silence on the line. Then Pendleton spoke, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"Are you injured? " "Minor abrasions to my wrists. Handcuffs were ratcheted down to the bone," David said, glancing through the bars at Brody, who was still grinning at him. "The arresting officer is named Thomas Brody. He pulled me over without cause, fabricated a resisting arrest charge, and impounded the Mercedes. Did he know who you are?
Pendleton asked. He saw my military ID. He assumed it was fake. He didn't bother to run my name through NCIC or he would have seen the federal flag on my profile, David said. "Colonel," Pendleton said, the title a mark of deep respect.
"I am going to burn that precinct to the foundation. " I don't want the precinct, Arthur, David replied softly. I want the cancer cut out. I want his badge. And I want the captain, who looked the other way. Sit tight.