General Monroe didn't even look at Travis. He walked right past the officer’s drawn weapon as if Travis didn't exist, his eyes locked entirely on the woman standing by the bench with a welt on her cheek.
"Zariah," the General said, his voice thick with a mixture of raw relief and furious authority. "Are you alright?"
Zariah looked at her father, her expression softening just an inch, though she remained completely composed. "I'm fine, Dad. But Officer Boon here was just explaining how the law works in this park."
General Monroe slowly turned his gaze toward Travis. The air around them seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Officer Boon," the General said, his voice dangerously low. "You have thirty seconds to explain why you just put your hands on a Senior Intelligence Advisor to the Joint Chiefs of Staff... before my men take you into federal custody for treason against a covert national security operation."
The park went dead silent. Travis dropped his handcuffs onto the gravel, his mouth hanging open in complete, helpless terror.
Travis stood paralyzed, his eyes darting frantically from the heavily armed federal agents to the towering figure of General Monroe. The badge pinned to the General’s lapel bore an seal Travis had only ever seen in news broadcasts covering congressional hearings. The handcuffs Travis had been holding clattered against the gravel, the metallic ring cutting through the deathly silence of the plaza.
"Sir... I—I didn't know," Travis stammered, his bravado instantly evaporating into pitiful stutters. "We had a call... an anonymous caller reported a vagrant disturbing the peace. She refused to move... she reached down suddenly—"