Chapter 2 - The Paper Trail
Deputy Brooks practically tripped over his own boots as he scrambled for his belt key. He inserted it into the heavy steel bracelets, clicking them open instantly.
Daniel rubbed his wrists, where red indentations marred his skin. He didn't lash out. He didn't punch Cole, though every martial arts instinct he possessed screamed at him to lay the corrupt lawman flat on the gravel.
Instead, Daniel adjusted his coat, retrieved his credential case from Brooks, and slid it back into his pocket.
"Deputy Brooks," Daniel said, his voice authoritative and crisp.
"Sir!" Brooks straightened up instinctively.
"You're going to walk into that diner," Daniel commanded. "You're going to order a fresh glass of orange juice for my daughter, you're going to tell her that her father is perfectly fine, and you're going to sit with her until her Aunt Claire arrives from Savannah. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir! Absolutely, Special Agent Carter!" Brooks said, turning on his heel and marching back into the diner without waiting for Cole's input.
Sheriff Cole stood alone beside his cruiser, his hands hovering nervously near his belt. The arrogant swagger he had exhibited inside the diner was completely gone, replaced by the desperate, calculating look of a trapped animal.
"Carter," Cole began, his tone shifting into a slimy attempt at camaraderie. "Look... there’s been a massive breakdown in communication here. If I had known who you were—"
"If you had known who I was, you wouldn't have brought your illegal operation to light by making a scene in public," Daniel cut him off coldly. "You thought I was just some grieving lone father wandering around your warehouse district at night. You wanted to arrest me, plant a throwaway firearm in my truck, and lock me away until your final shipment moved across the state line tonight."
Cole’s eyes darted toward his cruiser’s radio. "You don't have proof of anything."
"I have six weeks of encrypted satellite audio, Raymond," Daniel said, leaning in so close Cole could see the reflection of the morning sky in his dark eyes. "I have your voice approving the clearance codes for the three semi-trucks that backed into Warehouse 4 at 1:15 AM. I have video of your nephew receiving twenty thousand dollars in cash behind the bait shop on Tuesday."
Cole swallowed hard. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple despite the chill in the air.
"My team is already positioned around the perimeter of Warehouse 4," Daniel continued. "HRT—Hostage Rescue Team—is setting up snipers on the water tower right now. I was having breakfast with my daughter before we executed the warrant at noon."
"You... you brought your kid to an active operation?" Cole sneered, trying to regain some leverage. "What kind of father does that?"
Daniel’s expression turned to pure ice. "A father who had no choice because his wife died six months ago, and he doesn't trust local cops like you not to wiretap his house. I keep my daughter close so I can protect her from men like you."
Daniel pulled a secure satellite phone from his belt. He pressed a single button.
"Alpha One, this is Carter," Daniel said into the mouthpiece. "Execute Plan B. The local authority is compromised. Secure the perimeter of Warehouse 4 immediately. Suspect Raymond Cole is in custody."
Before Cole could draw his weapon, two black suburban SUVs tore around the corner of the highway, their red and blue grille lights flashing blindingly. They skidded to a halt on the gravel, blocking Cole's patrol car from both sides.
Four tactical agents clad in full body armor, bearing high-powered rifles and 'FBI' patches across their chests, spilled out of the vehicles.
"Hands on the hood, Raymond!" the lead agent shouted.
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Cole didn't fight. He let his knees hit the gravel, his hands going high in the air as the tactical team swarmed him, clicking heavy-duty zip-ties around his wrists.
Daniel didn't stay to watch Cole get loaded into the SUV. He turned on his heel and walked back into the diner.
