Frank didn't flinch. He didn't raise his voice, nor did he argue over local zoning bylaws.
Instead, Frank reached into his canvas jacket and smoothly flipped open a navy-blue leather credential case, holding it up directly in front of Linda’s face.
Embedded inside the leather was a gold federal shield stamped: FEDERAL AVIATION ADMINISTRATION — SENIOR FLIGHT STANDARDS & AIRSPACE INSPECTOR.
"Then you should have checked who signed your rejected application," Frank said, his voice piercing through the ambient chatter of the crowd.
Chapter III: The Federal Airspace
Linda’s hand froze mid-air. Her crystal glass rattled against her manicured fingernails as her smug smile shattered into stunned disbelief.