“Save the apologies, Sheriff,” Naomi said, taking a seat in one of the leather chairs opposite his desk without being offered one. “I don’t care about a rookie with an ego problem. I care about why my task force has been tracking high-level syndicate movement straight through your jurisdiction for six months, and your department hasn’t managed to intercept a single truck.”
Daniels slowly withdrew his hand, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second before returning, slightly more strained. He sat back down heavily. “Well, Commander, you know how it is out here. We’re underfunded. We’ve got a vast stretch of highway to cover and not enough men. We do our best, but these cartel ghosts… they know the backroads.”
“They don’t know the backroads, Sheriff,” Naomi said, leaning forward, resting her elbows on the armrests. “They own them. We have satellite tracking on three different commercial rigs that passed through Route 9 last night. Your patrol logs show two cruisers assigned to that sector. Neither reported a thing. Not a speeding violation, not a blown taillight.”
Daniels shifted in his seat. The leather creaked loudly in the quiet room. “Route 9 is a long stretch. In the dark, a rig can slip by.”
“A ghost can slip by. A ten-ton rig carrying sixty pounds of synthesized fentanyl makes a lot of noise,” she countered smoothly. She let the silence stretch, watching a single bead of sweat form near Daniels’ hairline. He was a man accustomed to being the biggest dog in a small yard, and he had no idea how to handle a wolf in his office.
“We are opening a forward operating base here in Oakhaven,” Naomi declared, standing up. “My team will be taking point on all highway interdiction operations starting immediately. Your department will stand down and provide administrative support when requested. Is that understood?”
Daniels stood up quickly, his face darkening with a flash of genuine anger. “Now hold on a minute, Commander. This is my town. My county. You can’t just march in here and bench my entire department without a warrant.”
“I have a federal mandate signed by the Director of the FBI and a federal judge,” Naomi said softly, her eyes narrowing. “Do not test me, William. If I find out your department is getting in my way, or worse, looking the other way… I won’t be sending a strongly worded letter. I’ll be sending federal indictments. Have a pleasant afternoon.”
She turned and walked out of the office, leaving Daniels speechless. As she marched back through the bullpen, the deputies immediately dropped their heads, pretending to be deeply engrossed in their paperwork.
Back in her vehicle, Naomi drove to a small, nondescript motel on the edge of town. It was the kind of place with flickering neon signs and a front desk clerk who didn’t ask questions. She let herself into Room 114, instantly securing the deadbolt and drawing the heavy curtains.