PART 2 — THE PHONE CALL THAT EXPOSED A SECRET
Derek moved before Purcell could squeeze the trigger. He ducked behind the Bentley’s front fender, snatched my phone from the hood, and hit the second favorite. “DROP THE PHONE!” Purcell screamed. I stepped directly into his line of sight. “Gary, if you fire, three cameras across this intersection will record you shooting an unarmed officer.” His weapon swung toward me. “Move!” “No.” Derek’s voice came from behind the car. “This is Officer Derek Sims, Fairview Police Department. I have a federal official in handcuffs and an officer pointing a firearm at us.” A man’s voice answered through the speaker. “Who is the federal official?” “Deputy Director Vivien Hargrove.” A brief silence followed. “Officer Sims, this is the Director of the FBI. Put Deputy Director Hargrove on the line immediately.” Purcell’s face drained of color. “Hang up!” he shouted. Derek raised the phone toward me. “Director, Purcell has drawn his weapon and is threatening both of us.” “Vivien,” the director said, “are you injured?” “Minor injuries. I need immediate supervisory intervention and preservation of every recording. Officer Purcell is attempting to manufacture charges.” The director’s voice hardened. “Assistance is being coordinated now. Officer Sims, keep that line open.”
Purcell lunged. He grabbed Derek by the collar and slammed him into the Bentley’s fender. The phone skidded across the pavement, but the call remained connected. “You little traitor!” Purcell shouted. Derek caught his wrist. The gun discharged into the roadway, sending both men staggering backward. My ears rang. “GUN DOWN!” Derek yelled. Purcell raised it again. I drove my shoulder into his upper arm, forcing the muzzle away from Derek. Purcell stumbled, struck the patrol car, and dropped his weapon. Derek kicked it beneath the vehicle. “Don’t move!” he ordered, drawing his own firearm. Purcell stared at him with disbelief. “You’re finished in this department.” Derek’s hands shook, but his voice held. “Then I’ll finish knowing I did the right thing.”
A second patrol car arrived, followed almost immediately by Police Chief Ellen Strickland. She climbed out, assessed the scene, and pointed toward Purcell. “Gary, step away from them.” “Chief, this woman assaulted me and—” “Stop talking.” She approached me, checked my credentials, and carefully unlocked my handcuffs. “Deputy Director Hargrove, I’m Chief Strickland. I apologize for what happened.” “Save the apologies,” I said, rubbing my wrists. “Secure the recordings and separate every officer involved.” Purcell laughed bitterly. “She’s going to ruin us over a traffic stop?” Strickland turned. “Gary Purcell, surrender your badge and firearm. You’re being detained while we investigate unlawful detention, assault, and possible civil rights violations.” Two officers moved toward him. He jerked away. “You have no idea what she’s hiding!”
Something in his voice made me pause. “What do you mean?” He looked directly at me. “Ask her about the files.” Strickland frowned. “What files?” Purcell’s expression shifted from anger to panic. “Forget it.” But Derek had already retrieved Purcell’s abandoned patrol tablet. “Chief, there’s something you need to see.” He turned the screen toward us. An incident report had been opened before Purcell approached my vehicle. The description read: Black female, luxury sedan, probable narcotics courier. My Bentley’s license plate was already entered. My breath caught. “How did he have my plate before the stop?” Derek scrolled down. A second field contained a surveillance reference number. I recognized it immediately. It belonged to an internal federal investigation involving a regional evidence-trafficking network.
“That’s impossible,” I whispered. Only a restricted group of investigators had access to that reference. Strickland looked at me. “Deputy Director?” I pointed toward the screen. “Someone inside a federal investigation gave him information about my vehicle.” Purcell suddenly broke free from the officer holding him. “You weren’t supposed to find that!” he shouted. He reached beneath his uniform jacket and pulled out a small black electronic device. Derek moved toward him. “Gary, put it down!” Purcell pressed a button. My phone began ringing. The caller identification showed an unlisted federal extension I knew personally. I answered. A distorted voice spoke before I could say a word. “Vivien, if you want Officer Sims to survive the next ten minutes, tell everyone to leave that tablet alone.” Then the voice added something that made my blood run cold. “Your investigation was compromised long before tonight—and the person who ordered this stop is standing right beside you.”
