MARCUS HALE: What's going on here?
MAYA REED: Officer Hale, this is a federal investigator. She's here to conduct an authorized inspection.
Marcus looked at Elena from head to toe.
He did not introduce himself.
He did not ask to see the authorization documents.
Instead, he gave a short, dismissive laugh.
MARCUS HALE: A federal investigator?
ELENA MARSHALL: That's correct.
MARCUS HALE: Nobody told us about a federal inspection.
ELENA MARSHALL: Your department received the cooperation agreement several months ago. The authorization is already registered.
MARCUS HALE: I don't remember approving anything like that.
ELENA MARSHALL: You weren't required to approve it personally.
Marcus looked toward Maya.
MARCUS HALE: Did you let her into the restricted area?
MAYA REED: She presented valid credentials. I checked the authorization in the system.
MARCUS HALE: I wasn't asking what you checked.
Maya lowered her eyes.
Elena noticed the exchange.
It was not the first time she had encountered an officer who used intimidation to control the people working around him.
She had interviewed dozens of witnesses who described similar behavior.
Some officers did not need to threaten anyone openly.
A raised voice, a hostile stare, or a carefully timed interruption was often enough to make an employee reconsider whether speaking honestly was worth the trouble.
Elena closed her identification wallet.
ELENA MARSHALL: Officer, I would appreciate it if you directed me to the evidence administration office.
Marcus stepped closer.
MARCUS HALE: Not so fast. You're not walking around my department looking through confidential records.
ELENA MARSHALL: Those records fall within the scope of my federal authorization.
MARCUS HALE: And I'm telling you that you're not authorized to touch anything.
ELENA MARSHALL: Then you should contact your commanding officer and verify the documentation.
MARCUS HALE: I don't need to contact anybody.
ELENA MARSHALL: That would be a mistake.
The words were delivered calmly.
There was no shouting, no dramatic gesture, and no attempt to provoke him.
But Marcus did not appreciate being corrected in front of another employee.
He glanced toward the operations room.
Two patrol officers were watching the conversation.
A detective sitting near the printer had stopped reading his paperwork.
Marcus straightened his uniform and adopted a more authoritative posture.
MARCUS HALE: Listen carefully. I have been working here longer than you've probably been investigating anything. This is a police headquarters, not some federal office where you can walk in and start giving orders.
ELENA MARSHALL: I haven't given you an order. I've presented an authorization and requested access to the records covered by it.
MARCUS HALE: Same difference.
ELENA MARSHALL: No, it isn't.
Marcus took another step forward.
Maya quietly moved away from the reception counter.
She had seen this side of him before.
Whenever someone questioned his decisions, Marcus treated it as a personal insult. He had a habit of turning ordinary disagreements into public confrontations, especially when junior employees were present.
Elena remained where she was.
MARCUS HALE: Let me see your identification again.
Elena opened the wallet and held it toward him.
ELENA MARSHALL: You can examine it, but you are not permitted to retain it.
Marcus reached forward.
Instead of simply looking at the credentials, he grabbed the wallet from her hand.
Elena's eyes followed his movement.
ELENA MARSHALL: I asked you to examine it, not take possession of it.
MARCUS HALE: And I decide what happens inside this building.
ELENA MARSHALL: You don't decide that.
Marcus opened the wallet.
Inside were Elena's photograph, her official federal identification card, and a gold identification emblem bearing the seal of her investigative division.
He examined the photograph for several seconds.
His expression remained unpleasant.
MARCUS HALE: This is supposed to convince me you're some kind of federal investigator?
ELENA MARSHALL: The identification number is printed beneath the photograph. You can verify it through the official federal directory.
MARCUS HALE: Anybody can print a number on a piece of plastic.
ELENA MARSHALL: Then verify it.
MARCUS HALE: I don't take instructions from strangers.
ELENA MARSHALL: You are holding an official federal credential. I suggest you handle it appropriately.
A few officers exchanged uncomfortable glances.
The detective near the printer slowly stood up.
His name was Thomas Reed.
Unlike Marcus, Thomas had spent most of his career trying to avoid unnecessary conflicts. He had seen enough questionable decisions to recognize when a situation was becoming dangerous.
THOMAS REED: Marcus, maybe you should call the watch commander.
Marcus turned sharply.
MARCUS HALE: Did I ask for your opinion?
THOMAS REED: I'm just saying we should verify her credentials.
MARCUS HALE: I know exactly what I'm doing.
Elena watched them without interrupting.
Her attention was no longer focused exclusively on Marcus.
She was studying the reactions of everyone around him.
Thomas appeared concerned.
Maya looked frightened.
Another officer had quietly moved closer to the hallway leading to the evidence storage area.
That detail interested her.
Why was someone suddenly concerned about what was happening near the evidence room?
And why did the department's employees seem more worried about Marcus's reaction than about the presence of a federal investigator?