Kowalski looked at Dez. "Mr.
Kane, I'm sure we can clear this up. Just a misunderstanding.
New guy, you know how it is."
"I do know how it is," Dez said, picking up his ID and sliding it into his pocket. "That's the problem.
I fought for freedom overseas, Sergeant. I didn't think I'd have to fight for it in my own neighborhood."
Dez leaned in closer. "I'm not leaving until I file a formal complaint.
And I want the badge number of the officer who arrested me, and his supervisor's name, and yours."
The drama was just beginning. Harlan had lit a match, but he didn't realize he was standing in a room full of gasoline.
Darius Kane was about to bring the fire.
Captain Elias Thorn was a man who believed that any problem could be solved if you buried it under enough paperwork or shouted at it until it went away. He had been running the Oak Haven precinct for 12 years, and in that time, he had swept more than a few indiscretions under the rug.
But as he looked at Darius Kane standing in his office, uncuffed, spine straight, radiating a silent, terrifying intensity, Thorn had a sinking feeling that his rug wasn't big enough for this.
Sergeant Kowalski had already briefed Thorn. Top-level clearance, Yankee White, Special Operations.
Thorn rubbed his temples.
"Mr. Kane," Thorn began, leaning back in his creaking leather chair.
He tried a conciliatory smile.
It looked like a grimace. "Please take a seat.
I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot here. Officer Harlan is exuberant.
He's young. He sees a threat where there isn't one.
We're willing to drop the disorderly conduct charge immediately."
Dez didn't sit. He stared at the framed photos on the wall behind Thorn.
Pictures of the captain shaking hands with the mayor, the governor, the local Rotary Club president.
"You're willing to drop the charges?" Dez repeated, his voice flat.
"That's generous of you, Captain, considering there were no charges to begin with."
"Well, technically," Thorn hedged, picking up a pen and tapping it on his desk, "Harlan filed a report stating you were combative and refused to identify yourself. But in the spirit of community relations, I'm willing to void the arrest.
You walk out of here, go back to your nice house, and we all pretend this afternoon didn't happen."
"And what happens to Officer Harlan?" Dez asked.
Thorn sighed. "He'll get a reprimand, a note in his file, maybe a day of retraining on de-escalation."
"A day of retraining?" Dez said, finally stepping forward.
He placed his hands on the back of the guest chair, gripping the wood until his knuckles turned white.
"Captain, your officer pulled a weapon on a calm, unarmed man. He profiled me, trespassed on my property, assaulted me, and illegally seized federal identification.
If I had flinched just once, he could have shot me. You know it.
I know it."
"Let's not deal in hypotheticals," Thorn snapped, his patience fraying. "You're a military man, Kane.
You know how it is in the field. Split-second decisions, fog of war."
"This wasn't Fallujah, Captain. This was a driveway in suburbia, and there was no fog until your boy brought it."
Dez reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I'm not accepting your deal.
I'm making a phone call."