‘Department of Defense!'” Boyd shook his head, throwing the multi-thousand-dollar piece of classified hardware carelessly back into the plastic tray with a loud, hollow CLACK.
“You’re in Oak Haven now, sweetheart.
Your fancy beltway fairy tales don’t mean a damn thing to me.
You’re just another prisoner in a jail cell.”
Boyd pointed toward the heavy steel door leading to the holding cells at the rear of the building.
“Lock her up in Cell Two, Toby.
We’ll let her sit in the heat for a couple hours until her attitude cools down.”
“Sheriff,” Sarah said, her voice dropping into an icy, unyielding calm.
“Under the law, I am entitled to make a telephone call.”
Boyd paused, leaning against the counter with a smug, condescending smile.
He checked his wristwatch.
“Well now, ain’t you a lawyer all of a sudden?
Fine.
You get one call.
Who you gonna call?
Your attorney?
Or your mama to come post bail?”
Sarah walked slowly over to the landline phone mounted on the cinder-block wall near the booking desk.
She did not look at a telephone directory.
She did not consult a piece of paper.
She picked up the receiver and entered a twelve-digit telephone number entirely from memory.Deputy Toby Miller watched her closely.
He noticed that the number she dialed did not start with a standard local area code, nor did it resemble any standard 1-800 toll-free number he had ever seen.
For three agonizing seconds, there was silence on the line.
Then, a sharp, synthetic electronic chime sounded through the ear receiver, followed by a cold, digitized voice:
“Security protocol engaged. Authentication required.”Sarah did not hesitate for a microsecond.
She spoke into the receiver with crisp, terrifying clarity, her voice echoing off the concrete walls of the booking room like a series of rifle shots.
“Echo Seven Tango Niner.
Authorization code: Black Sky Four.
Priority Flash.”
The booking room immediately fell dead silent.
Toby Miller stopped writing on his clipboard, his pen hovering in mid-air.
Even Boyd Cleary stopped sipping his coffee, a faint flicker of confusion crossing his weathered face.
A fraction of a second later, the synthetic tone disappeared.
A human voice came over the line—a voice that was curt, intensely focused, and backed by the subtle background hum of dozens of active military command consoles.
“National Military Command Center, Pentagon. Secure line verified. Go ahead, General.”Sarah stood perfectly straight, holding the receiver firmly against her ear.“This is Brigadier General Sarah Hayes, Deputy Director of Strategic Operations for the Joint Chiefs of Staff,” Sarah said, her voice steady and totally devoid of emotion.
“I am currently being detained without lawful cause inside an unsecured municipal facility by local law enforcement officers in Oak Haven County.
My position is approximately forty miles south of the regional airport.
My encrypted Class-One satellite communications device has been forcibly confiscated by an unauthorized civilian.”
On the other end of the line, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
The sound of rapid keyboard typing clattered through the phone.
“Understood, General Hayes,” the voice from the Pentagon replied without a trace of hesitation. “We have your biometric tag verified. Your GPS coordinates are locked. We are initiating Defense Incident Protocol Delta-Nine immediately. General Thomas Reed is being alerted now. Stand by for extraction.”