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Cop Spits in a Black Woman’s Face at the Airport — Unaware She Is the FBI Director

Cop Spits in a Black Woman’s Face at the Airport — Unaware She Is the FBI Director

Chapter 10

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Valerie moved with blinding speed: she sidestepped his clumsy grab, grabbed his wrist, twisted it outward, and applied a localized pressure-point lock. Hayes gasped in sudden, blinding pain, his knees buckling as she forced him downward. She didn't break his arm, but she applied exactly enough pressure to paralyze his upper body.Holding the whimpering, two-hundred-pound officer at bay with one hand, Valerie used her thumb to dial a secure number on her phone. It rang exactly once."Director," a crisp, professional voice answered. It was Arthur Pendleton, the deputy director of the FBI."Arthur, it's Gibson," Valerie said, her voice echoing coldly in the small room.On the floor, Hayes's eyes went wide."Director? I need you to contact the Special Agent in Charge of the Atlanta Field Office," Valerie continued, applying a tiny bit more pressure to Hayes's wrist, eliciting a pathetic squeak from the man. "Have him dispatch a tactical response team to Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. Terminal 4, secondary screening room 114.""Is there an active threat, ma'am?" Arthur asked, his voice instantly tightening with urgency."No," Valerie replied, looking down at the sweaty, trembling officer kneeling on the floor. "The threat has been neutralized, but I need federal agents here to make an arrest. The charge is assault on a federal officer, civil rights violations under Title 18, Section 242, and suspected systemic corruption.""Understood, Director. They are five minutes out."
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Cop Spits in a Black Woman’s Face at the Airport — Unaware She Is the FBI Director

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