"What's the situation here, Reigns?" Voss asked, but his tone made it clear he wasn't really asking; he'd already decided Marcus was the problem.
"Driver was weaving between lanes," Reigns replied smoothly. "When I stopped him, he became argumentative and uncooperative. Refused to follow simple instructions, started making wild accusations to distract from his traffic violations."
Voss nodded as if this explanation made perfect sense. He didn't ask for details, didn't request Marcus's version, didn't wonder why a routine traffic stop had escalated to require supervisory response. Marcus recognized the choreography: this wasn't the first time these two had performed this routine.
"Officer," Marcus addressed Voss directly, "your subordinate demanded $500 cash to avoid arrest and impoundment of my vehicle. When I refused to pay, he threatened me with false charges."
Reigns immediately shook his head. "Complete fabrication, Sarge. Guy's making stuff up because he can't handle being held accountable for his driving."
"$500?" Voss asked with theatrical disbelief. "That's a serious accusation. You got any proof of that?"
"I asked him to repeat the amount," Marcus said evenly. "He did. Then he explained what would happen if I refused to pay."
Reigns laughed bitterly. "Listen to this guy making up elaborate stories, trying to turn a simple traffic stop into some conspiracy theory."
Voss stepped closer to Marcus, studying his face in the patrol car's headlights. "Here's what I see: expensive vehicle, attitude problem. Probably thinks money makes him special. Probably figures he can intimidate local cops with threats and accusations."
"I haven't threatened anyone," Marcus replied. "I've asked legitimate questions about the legal basis for this detention."
"Legal basis?" Voss's voice carried contempt. "The legal basis is Officer Reigns observed you commit a traffic violation. The legal basis is your suspicious behavior during a lawful stop. The legal basis is whatever we determine it to be." Voss gestured toward the SUV. "Unlock the vehicle. We're conducting a search."
Marcus remained motionless. "I do not consent to any search of my person or my vehicle. What probable cause authorizes this search?"
"Probable cause is your refusal to cooperate," Voss answered without hesitation. "Probable cause is making false accusations against a police officer. Probable cause is whatever suspicious items we're going to find when we look."
Reigns moved to Marcus's other side, flanking him between the two officers. "See what happens when you don't take the easy solution? This could have been over 20 minutes ago. Now look where we are."
The words confirmed what Marcus already suspected: the $500 demand wasn't improvisation; it was standard operating procedure.
"Sergeant Voss," Marcus said carefully, "are you authorizing everything that's happening here? The detention, the search, the threats?"
"I'm authorizing a proper investigation," Voss replied. "If you want to call that threats, that's your problem."
Marcus felt the weight of understanding settle over him. Reigns wasn't a rogue officer operating alone. This was institutional, systematic, protected from above.
"Both of you need to understand something," Marcus said, his voice carrying new gravity. "Continuing this detention is going to destroy your careers."
Reigns laughed out loud. "Destroy our careers? You hear that, Sarge? This guy thinks he's somebody important. Real important men have made the same threat," Reigns continued, his confidence growing. "Rich lawyers, connected businessmen, politicians' kids—know what happened to them? They paid the fine, learned their lesson, and kept their mouths shut."
Voss reached toward Marcus's arm. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back. You're under arrest for obstruction of justice and interference with police duties."
"Wait," Marcus said quietly. "Before you do something that can't be undone, let me show you something."
Both officers tensed as Marcus slowly reached inside his jacket. His movements were deliberate and visible—non-threatening, but purposeful. His fingers found the leather credential case he'd placed there before leaving his hotel that morning—the case containing his new department identification, his command credentials, and his authority to take control of their precinct in exactly 4 hours.
Marcus withdrew the case slowly, letting both men see exactly what he was removing.
Marcus opened the leather case with practiced precision. The gold shield caught the patrol car's headlights, reflecting official authority that couldn't be faked or dismissed. Below it, department identification bore his photograph, rank designation, and command authorization code.
"Captain Marcus Ellison," he announced clearly. "Westbridge Police Department, scheduled to assume operational command of this precinct at 0800 hours this morning."
Reigns stared at the credentials for several seconds before bursting into laughter. "Oh, this is rich. Anyone can buy fake badges online. You think flashing some costume jewelry is going to scare us?"
But Voss wasn't laughing. His face had gone pale in the headlights. Marcus watched recognition dawn in the sergeant's expression—the kind of sick understanding that comes when someone realizes their world is about to collapse.
"Reigns," Voss said quietly, his voice strained. "Shut up."
"Come on, Sarge," Reigns continued, still grinning. "This guy's running the oldest con in the book. Probably got that badge from the same place he bought his fancy suit."
"I said shut up!" Voss snapped, then turned back to Marcus with desperate calculation. "Sir, if you're really... I need to verify this through dispatch."
Marcus nodded calmly. "Unit designation 772, request identity confirmation for Captain Marcus Ellison. Command authorization code Mike Echo 779."
Voss keyed his radio with shaking hands. "Dispatch, this is Sergeant Voss requesting identity verification."
The radio crackled within 30 seconds. Dispatch confirmed what Voss had already feared: Marcus Ellison, newly appointed captain, authorized to assume operational command that morning.
The confirmation fell like a death sentence in the pre-dawn silence. Reigns's grin vanished completely. His confident posture crumbled as the reality hit him: he had just tried to extort his new commanding officer.
"Officer Reigns," Marcus said with quiet authority, "reactivate your body camera immediately."
"Sir, the camera's been malfunctioning all shift," Reigns stammered. "Technical problems. Nothing I can do about it."
"Reactivate it now, or I'll have dispatch send a supervisor to collect it as evidence."