He gestured toward the trash. Keene looked at him, then at the visible fragment beside his shoe.
"You broke it?"
"I exposed it."
Keene was quiet for a moment. "Nolan, let's slow this down. If she's claiming CID, we can call the number from our agency directory, not one she gives us. We don't have to guess."
"Captain's coming," Voss said. "He'll handle it."
Danielle paid careful attention to that. Keene offered a routine path out of the confrontation, but Voss rejected it in favor of a specific superior. He seemed less interested in proving Danielle was lying than in waiting for someone who would tell him he was right.
"Officer Keene," Danielle said, "would you please document the state of my credentials and request an immediate preservation hold on all body-worn-camera and dispatch records associated with this stop?"
Keene's eyes narrowed slightly with concentration. "I'll make the request."
Voss rounded on her. "I didn't ask you to do that."
"We preserve recordings for disputed arrests," Keene replied. "You know the policy."
The two officers held each other's gaze. Nothing about Keene's response was dramatic. She had not accused him of a crime or raised her voice. She had simply insisted on doing the ordinary thing, and Danielle noticed how much it unsettled him.
The rumble arrived before the convoy came into view. It was a low vibration in the concrete, followed by the measured growl of heavy diesel engines slowing on the highway. Voss looked toward the entrance. Black logistics support vehicles appeared behind a command SUV, then several Army transports carrying personnel and equipment. Their arrival had been planned for the routine refueling evaluation; Danielle had altered the inspection sequence when she flagged the site. The command vehicle turned into the station first. The drivers positioned the trucks away from the pumps, leaving enough room for emergency traffic and preserving the area around pump six.
Voss stood still. Keene glanced at Danielle and back toward the road. The convoy's arrival did not prove a particular person was a federal agent, but it made the impersonation theory look less comfortable than it had five minutes earlier.
The command vehicle stopped. A driver opened the rear door, and General Marcus Thorne stepped out. Four stars were visible on his uniform, but Danielle saw his face before she noticed anything else. He looked at the handcuffs, the patrol cruiser, and the strange collection of people standing around the diesel island. Then his eyes reached her.
His stride lengthened. A colonel carrying an operations folder followed several steps behind. Nearby soldiers remained with the vehicles, awaiting instructions. Thorne crossed the parking lot without looking at the gathered customers.
"Agent Cross," he said. "Are you injured?"
"Nothing requiring immediate medical care, sir. I'd like the cuffs loosened or removed, and I need the scene preserved."
Thorne turned to Voss. "I'm General Marcus Thorne. I can personally identify this woman as Special Agent Danielle Cross. She is conducting an authorized Army criminal investigation coordinated with federal authorities. What is the basis for restraining her?"