Within minutes, Lieutenant Marcus Hale appeared, walking with the kind of confidence that wasn’t loud but carried weight. He was younger than Elena expected, though not inexperienced. His uniform was crisp, his posture rigid, his expression already leaning toward suspicion before he even spoke.
“What’s the issue?” he asked, taking the badge without looking at her.
“ID mismatch,” the sentry replied.
Marcus scanned the badge, then glanced at Elena, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Step aside, ma’am.”
No clarification. No questions about her assignment. No call to verify her credentials through official channels.
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