The door opened, and Agent Vance walked in. The lighting in the room was low-key, heavily shadowed, highlighting the sharp lines of Vance's face. He sat down across the metal table, placing a thick file down.
"Do you know what was happening at the shipyards tonight, David?" Vance asked, his voice low and rhythmic.
Miller swallowed hard, staring at the table. "No, sir."
"Two tons of narcotics and a human trafficking ring. We spent eight months embedding an asset. Tonight was the exchange. I was en route to signal the tactical breach." Vance leaned forward, the ambient silence of the room amplifying his words. "Because you wanted to play the tough guy over a broken taillight, the shipment moved, the traffickers scattered, and my asset is currently missing."
Miller’s breathing became shallow. He had expected a reprimand. He hadn't expected to be the sole reason a massive federal syndicate escaped.
The next morning, the sun rose over a different reality for David Miller.
The District Attorney made good on her promise. The preserved camera footage was pristine. It showed a clear, uninterrupted timeline of Miller’s ego overriding protocol, law, and basic procedure. The wide shots captured his arrogance; the close-ups captured his blatant disregard for the federal shield.