Within minutes, more police vehicles appeared.
Their headlights flooded the road.
A large tactical vehicle pulled behind the patrol cars, and armed officers began stepping onto the pavement.
One of them wore a ballistic helmet. Another carried a rifle. Their movements were deliberate, trained, and serious.
Daniel looked at the arriving officers.
Then he looked back at Miller.
"What exactly have you told them?"
Miller ignored the question.
A tactical officer shouted from behind a vehicle.
"Everybody keep their hands visible!"
Daniel remained beside the sedan.
His hands were still cuffed behind him.
The tactical officers spread out, using the vehicles as cover. One raised his weapon toward Daniel, while another called for him to turn around slowly.
The entire scene changed in an instant.
People who had been recording from a distance began retreating toward their cars. One driver shouted that Daniel was already in handcuffs. Another begged the officers to calm down.
Nobody seemed certain who was in charge.
Miller, meanwhile, stood near the driver's side of the sedan, suddenly aware that the situation had grown larger than he could control.
He had expected Daniel to become angry.
He had expected a shouting match, perhaps a physical struggle that would justify his original accusations.
Instead, the arrival of the tactical team had placed an armed man in a suit beneath several raised weapons.
And the man was still not fighting.
"Sir!" a tactical officer shouted. "Do not make any sudden movements!"
Daniel answered clearly.
"I'm in handcuffs. I'm not resisting. I need someone to tell me what threat you believe I present."
"Face away from us!"
Daniel slowly turned.
"Everybody take a breath," he said. "There has been a serious misunderstanding."
"Get on your knees!"
Daniel lowered himself carefully.
The pavement was cold beneath his knees. The sharp edge of a small stone pressed into his trousers, but he ignored it.
He could hear his own breathing.
He could hear the hum of idling engines.
He could hear the faint voices of people behind the police line asking what was happening.
And he could hear Miller shouting instructions that contradicted those being given by the tactical officers.
For the first time that night, Daniel felt something close to genuine concern.
Not for himself alone.
He was concerned about what might happen if one frightened officer made a sudden decision and every other person on the scene reacted to it.
"Officer," Daniel called, "I need you to communicate clearly with your team. I am unarmed, cooperative, and already restrained."
Miller snapped back.
"Stop giving orders!"
Daniel turned his head slightly.
"I'm trying to keep everyone safe."
"Face forward!"
Daniel complied.
Then a tactical officer approached with his weapon still raised.
"Put your hands where I can see them!"
Daniel glanced down at the cuffs behind his back.
"I can't. Your colleague has handcuffed me."
For a second, nobody spoke.
The tactical officer looked toward Miller.
"Is he handcuffed?"
Miller hesitated.
"Yes."
"Then why are we treating him as an immediate threat?"
Miller's mouth tightened.
"He could still be dangerous."
"Based on what?"
"His behavior."
The tactical officer looked at Daniel again.
The man was kneeling on the pavement, wearing an expensive suit, with no visible weapon and no attempt to escape.
Something about the explanation did not add up.
"Sir," the tactical officer said to Daniel, "do you have identification?"
"Yes. My wallet is in my inside jacket pocket. I will not reach for it unless you authorize me to do so."
That answer surprised him.
Most people in such a situation were frightened, confused, or furious. Daniel was speaking as though he were carefully guiding a meeting toward a solution.
The tactical officer lowered his weapon slightly, although he did not put it away.
"Officer Miller, get his identification."
Miller approached reluctantly.
He reached into Daniel's jacket and removed the wallet.
Then he opened it.
At first, he saw a driver's license, several credit cards, and a photograph of a woman standing beside Daniel at what appeared to be a family celebration.
Then he noticed the identification card tucked behind the license.
His expression changed.
He looked at the card again.
Then he looked at Daniel.
"No," Miller whispered.
Daniel said nothing.
Miller turned the card toward the light.
His fingers suddenly seemed less steady than they had been moments earlier.