"Correct," the caller replied. "That is why the process is continuing."
Brooks asked how the station would be notified when the final response was available.
The caller explained the next steps and provided a timeframe that depended on the completion of the additional check. Brooks wrote down the information and repeated it to ensure that she had understood correctly.
Kane interrupted once more.
"And if it turns out to be fake?"
"Then the result will state that."
"And if it isn't?"
There was a short pause.
"Then the result will state that as well."
The answer was so simple that nobody in the room could reasonably dispute it.
Brooks thanked the caller and ended the conversation.
Kane stepped away from the phone.
He seemed to be trying to decide whether the preliminary information had helped or harmed his position. The caller had not delivered the final confirmation, but neither had the caller supported Kane's claim that the badge was fraudulent.
The uncertainty remained.
What had changed was Kane's ability to pretend that his personal judgment was the only relevant source of information.
Cross watched him carefully.
"Now we wait for the result," Cross said.
Kane turned.
"You don't get to tell me what we do."
"I'm describing what the caller just told us."
"I heard the call."
"Then you know the next step."
Kane's hands tightened at his sides.
Brooks moved between them again, not because Cross had threatened the officer, but because she could see that Kane was still searching for an opportunity to regain the advantage through confrontation.
"Everyone needs to stop arguing," she said. "The verification is underway. The report is being prepared. We will follow the next instruction when it arrives."
Kane looked at her for several seconds.
Then he turned toward the closed blinds.
Outside, traffic moved through the night, headlights passing beyond the narrow gaps between the slats. The city continued without any knowledge of the conference room, of the handcuffed man, or of the officer who had decided that a gold badge must be fake because he could not accept the possibility that he did not know everything.
Kane stood with his back to the others.
For the first time since the confrontation began, he did not immediately issue another command.
Brooks returned to the incident report. Parker reviewed his notes. Cross remained beside the chair, waiting for the process to continue.
The room had become quieter, but it was not calmer.
The injury had been documented. The verification request had moved forward. The witnesses had begun recording their observations. And the officer who had insisted that his judgment was beyond question now had to wait for an answer that might contradict everything he had said.
Kane turned back toward the table.
"Until that confirmation arrives, he stays here," he announced.
Brooks looked up.
"That decision still needs a proper basis."
"I've already given you one."
"You gave us your suspicion. We still need the relevant grounds for the detention."
Kane's expression hardened again.
"I am not going to debate police procedure with you in front of him."
"Then don't debate it. Explain the decision and document it."
He looked at Cross, then at the paperwork spread across the table.
The gold badge remained visible inside the charcoal jacket.
Kane had called it fake before checking it. He had struck the man wearing it. He had dismissed his own sergeant's concerns and warned another officer against recording the incident. Yet the verification was continuing, and the facts were beginning to accumulate in a form that would not disappear when the room emptied.
Cross spoke once more.
"Officer Kane, you still have the opportunity to handle the rest of this professionally."
Kane gave him a cold stare.
"You think this is about professionalism?"
"What else would it be about?"
"You're trying to make me look incompetent."
Cross shook his head.
"I'm not responsible for the decisions you made."
Kane took a step toward him.
Brooks immediately moved to intercept him.
"Victor. Stay where you are."
He stopped, but his eyes remained fixed on Cross.
"You have no idea what you've walked into."
Cross held his gaze.
"Then tell me something factual."
Kane's expression changed.
It was a small shift, but everyone in the room noticed it. The officer appeared to have reached the point where anger no longer supplied an easy answer. He had accused Cross of deception, challenged his identification, struck him, and refused to accept the preliminary information from the verification process. Now he was being asked to support his own claims with something more substantial than his conviction that the stranger was lying.