“You handcuffed your own commander?” someone demanded after a tense roadside stop in the rain. What seemed like a routine incident quickly unraveled, and the mistake ended up destroying the careers of two officers involved.

He glanced at it briefly, then handed it to Miller without much interest. Neither of them seemed particularly concerned with verifying anything in that moment. The stop wasn’t about confirmation. It was about control.

“Turn around,” Calloway said.

“For what reason?” I asked.

That was the first moment his patience snapped.

“Turn around,” he repeated, louder this time. “Or we’re going to have a problem.”