"That wasn't my question."
"I understand. My disclosure instructions don't authorize me to give you additional organizational details at this point. The secure validation line can."
Rebecca turned the card between her fingers. "Name?"
"Maya Williams."
"And what exactly do you expect to do here, Ms. Williams?"
"Review the digital evidence archive, administrative access records, and certain sealed property logs under the authorization attached to the credential."
Rebecca's eyes moved to the black case. It was rectangular, with reinforced corners, a recessed handle, and a tiny green indicator beside two coded latches. The case looked expensive, but not glamorous. It looked designed to survive careless handling, which made Rebecca appear to dislike it even more.
"You arrive without an appointment my office knows about," she said, "you refuse to identify your agency, and you want access to our most sensitive records while carrying an unidentified container. Do you honestly expect me to let you through because a computer displays a green box?"
Maya kept both hands visible on the countertop. "I expect you to call the number supplied through your own access system. You can verify the visit independently before I go anywhere."
"I don't take instructions from strangers in my building."
"I'm not giving you new instructions. I'm asking you to use the ones your department accepted when it installed that system."
Ben felt the distinction immediately. Rebecca seemed to feel it too, but as an insult. Her eyes narrowed. Several feet away, the older man who had come to report the stolen license plate was still waiting with a paper folder under his arm. The dispatcher behind the partition lowered her voice on a telephone call. The entire front lobby acquired that strange stillness which develops when ordinary people realize a confrontation is taking place and nobody yet knows how far it will go.
"Close the verification window, Carter," Rebecca said.
Ben looked at the screen. "Lieutenant, it says federal authority verified. The instruction is to—"
"I saw what it says. Close it."
He hesitated a second too long. Rebecca fixed him with a look he knew from performance reviews. Ben clicked the window shut. The green confirmation disappeared, though the event remained in the system history. The loss of that bright rectangle made him feel as if he had physically covered something that ought to have stayed visible.
Rebecca pushed the card onto the counter. "We'll hold the case until we determine what's inside."
Maya rested one hand on its handle. "If you take custody of it before the validation process is completed, the remote seal protocol will record the event and prevent the contents from being opened here."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a property-security warning. I'm telling you what the case is designed to do."
"Take your hand off it."
Maya complied. There was no dramatic refusal, no sudden movement, not even a change in the level of her voice. She watched Rebecca pick up the credential again. She seemed interested in what the lieutenant would do next, as if the important part of the exchange had shifted from her own entry into the building to the decisions taking shape across the counter.