“Well, look what we found right here. Step out of the vehicle, now!”

“Well, look what we found right here. Step out of the vehicle, now!”

The corrupt local cop flashed a sinister smirk, dangling a small baggie of white powder right in front of the female driver’s face.

But the woman didn’t panic. She just stared dead into his eyes and calmly replied, “You just planted that.”

The dirty cop’s frown deepened. He aggressively ordered her out of the car again, trying to intimidate her. She just scoffed, leaned back, and asked, “Are you sure about that?”

She slowly reached into her designer bag, revealing a highly classified, red-stamped federal dossier. At that exact moment, the cop’s radio crackled to life, demanding him to identify the driver he just pulled over.

“Go ahead. Answer them,” she challenged with ice in her voice.

The dispatcher’s voice boomed over the radio: “Claire Murray. Internal Affairs. Six-month investigation confirmed.”

The corrupt cop’s arrogant smirk completely vanished. The color completely drained from his face as his eyes widened in absolute terror. He realized he had just tried to frame the exact federal agent who was sent there to take him down. “You… you’re Internal Affairs?” he stammered, shaking like a leaf.

Claire didn’t blink. The heavy, oppressive heat of the Georgia summer night seemed to press down on everything, but the air inside her rented Lexus was ice cold. She gracefully pushed the car door open, her heels clicking sharply against the cracked asphalt of Highway 9.