At 2:07 a.m., the patrol lights had appeared in the vehicle's forward camera.
At 2:09, the driver’s door had opened.
At 2:11, the audio had captured the first physical assault.
At 2:14, Carter had dismissed the federal credentials.
At 2:19, he had discussed the supposed robbery report.
At 2:23, the vehicle had transmitted an emergency signal.
At 2:31, the patrol cars had arrived at the station.
At 3:18, Carter had visited Terrence's holding cell.
The timeline was already damning.
But Brooks knew that a successful investigation could not be built on anger or assumptions. A corrupt officer might have committed several crimes, but the government still had to prove each relevant element with admissible evidence.
They needed the original recordings.
They needed the department's logs.
They needed to establish what Carter knew, when he knew it, and what he did after receiving that knowledge.
And they needed to protect the evidence that had started the investigation in the first place.
Brooks looked at the operations chief.
“Do we know whether the warehouse surveillance is still active?”
“Yes. A separate team is maintaining visual observation. They haven't approached the site.”
“Tell them to hold position and report any movement. Nobody makes contact unless there is an immediate threat.”
She paused.
“Those agents went into Oak Creek to investigate missing evidence. Now the people we suspect of mishandling evidence have them in custody.”
The room remained silent.
Brooks continued.
“That means the investigation has changed. We are no longer simply watching a suspected criminal network. We are preserving evidence of possible misconduct inside a police department. Every step from this point forward has to withstand scrutiny.”
She looked at the legal adviser.
“Get me the federal prosecutor.”
At 3:41 a.m., Officer Patrick Wells stood alone in the booking room, staring at the incident report he had been ordered to complete.
The report stated that two men had refused lawful commands, presented fraudulent credentials, and possessed weapons connected to a suspected robbery.
Wells had not witnessed the roadside stop.
He had not seen either man refuse a command.
He had not heard them threaten anyone.
He had, however, seen their credentials.
He had also seen the computer return a federal law enforcement record.
He looked toward the hallway.
Carter's office was at the far end. The door was closed, but light shone beneath it.
Wells knew what would happen if he refused to enter the report. Carter would accuse him of insubordination. He might be removed from the schedule, reassigned, or investigated for some unrelated violation.
But if he signed the report as it stood, he would be placing his name beneath statements he could not verify.
He opened a blank document.
He began typing.
“At approximately 3:12 a.m., two individuals were brought into the booking area by Sergeant William Carter and Officer Richard Dempsey. The individuals identified themselves as federal law enforcement officers and presented credentials bearing the seals of the FBI and ATF.”
He stopped.
His fingers hovered above the keyboard.
He continued.
“An identity check through the department system returned information consistent with the stated federal affiliations. Sergeant Carter instructed me to disregard the result and described the system response as an error. I was not present at the original stop and cannot independently verify the allegations contained in the arrest narrative.”
Wells read the paragraph twice.
Then he saved it under a separate filename.
He did not know whether it would protect him.
He only knew that he could not live with himself if he erased what he had seen.
A sound came from the doorway.
Wells turned.
Carter stood there.
“What are you doing?”
Wells quickly minimized the document.
“Finishing the report.”
“Show me.”
“It's not ready yet.”
Carter walked toward the desk.
“Show me.”
Wells hesitated, then opened the report.
Carter read the first paragraph.
His face became still.
“What is this?”
“My account of what happened in booking.”
“You weren't at the stop.”
“That's why I wrote that I wasn't.”
Carter scrolled down.
When he reached the paragraph about the federal credentials, he stopped.
“You're putting this in an official report?”
“It's what happened.”
Carter turned toward him.
“You want to be a witness?”
Wells swallowed.
“I want the report to be accurate.”
Carter leaned down.
“You have no idea what you're involved in.”
“Then explain it to me.”
The words escaped before Wells could stop them.
Carter stared at him.
For a moment, Wells thought he had just ended his career.
Then Carter smiled.
It was a cold, narrow smile.
“Delete it.”
“Sergeant—”
“Delete it, Patrick.”
Wells looked at the screen.