Part 3: The Badge
Seeing her reach into her bag, Tom’s hand instinctively dropped to his holster. “Hands where I can see them! Now!” he yelled, trying to assert dominance.
Sarah slowly pulled her hand out, but she wasn’t holding a weapon. Wrapped in her palm was a heavy, gold shield. She flipped it open, holding it inches from Tom’s face.
The gold badge gleamed in the afternoon sun: New York City Police Department — Captain.
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The smirk instantly vanished from Tom’s face. The blood drained from his cheeks so fast he looked like he had seen a ghost. The two officers behind him froze mid-stride, their expressions turning from arrogant amusement to sheer terror.
“Captain Sarah Johnson,” she announced, her voice echoing with absolute authority. “Internal Affairs has been looking into reports of extortion in this sector for three months, Sergeant Davis. I didn’t expect to catch you in the act on my way to a family wedding, but here we are.”
Tom swallowed hard, his voice suddenly losing all its bark. “C-Captain… I… this is a misunderstanding. We had a report of a vehicle matching this description—”
“Quiet,” Sarah ordered, cutting him off instantly.
