"Chief, with respect," Travis said, confused by the lack of praise. "She's a suspect in a felony narcotics case. Should you really—" "Shut your mouth, Officer Holt!" Henderson barked, the sheer volume rattling the windows of the bullpen.
"Do not speak. Do not move. If you so much as twitch, I will have these IA investigators put you in irons." Travis froze, his confident smile evaporating instantly.
A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck.
The entire bullpen watched in terrified silence as Chief Henderson walked past the desk and down the corridor towards the holding cells. The two IA men flanked him while Travis and Harrison stood frozen at the desk. At cell 3, Henderson shoved the heavy key into the lock and turned it. The iron door swung open.
Emma Grace stepped out. She was still wearing the damp gray hoodie and jeans, her hair slightly messy. But the way she held herself, shoulders back, chin high, eyes sharp as broken glass, was unmistakable. She looked exactly like the apex predator she was.
"Captain Grace," Chief Henderson said softly, his voice full of profound apology. "I cannot express how sorry I am." "Save the apology, David," Emma said calmly, her voice echoing down the hallway. "It's not your fault. It's an institutional failure."
Back at the desk, Travis Holt felt the oxygen leave the room. His vision blurred. He felt like the floor had just dropped out from under him. He looked at Ben Collins, who had just walked into the precinct and was staring at the scene in absolute horror.
"Captain. Captain Grace." The pieces violently snapped together in Travis's mind. Emma Grace, moving from Chicago, starting a new job on Monday.
"Oh my god," Travis whispered, the blood draining completely from his face. His hands began to shake. Emma walked down the hallway side by side with the chief of police. She didn't walk like a prisoner being released.
She walked like a general inspecting the troops. She stepped into the main bullpen, her eyes scanning the terrified faces of the officers until they locked dead onto Travis Holt.
Travis took a step back, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "I—I didn't. I didn't know." Emma stopped directly in front of him.
She looked at his badge. Then she looked into his terrified pale eyes. "You didn't know I was your commanding officer," Emma said, her voice carrying across the dead, silent room. "Because if you had known, you would have smiled, called me Captain or ma'am, and let me pass."
"You only planted those drugs. You only threw me in that cell because you thought I was a nobody. You thought I was someone without power. Someone you could break."
She took a step closer. Travis physically shrank back. "But here is the reality, Officer Holt," Emma continued, her tone dropping to a lethal whisper. "I am the new captain of District 9. And I have spent the last 8 hours sitting in a freezing cell mentally drafting the end of your entire existence."