"What's happening at the gate?" he asked.
The flight attendant contacted ground operations.
They had no answer.
The aircraft had more than two hundred passengers aboard.
Families were becoming restless.
Business travelers were checking their watches.
Children were crying.
A missed departure slot would create problems throughout the airport.
But Bradley didn't care.
He was too busy trying to win.
He pointed at Amara.
"You're not getting on that plane."
Amara looked at the clock.
Then at the cameras.
Then at the passengers.
Finally, she reached into her pocket for her phone.
Bradley stepped forward.
"Who are you calling?"
"My supervisor."
"No calls."
Bradley reached toward her phone.
Amara pulled it back.
"Do not touch me."
"You're not going anywhere."
Bradley had no idea that the call she was about to make would change everything.
The Phone Call
The phone rang.
Amara looked at the screen.
DOJ Civil Rights Division.
Bradley noticed the expression on her face.
"Put it on speaker."
Amara said nothing.
"I said put it on speaker."
She accepted the call.
"Amara Washington."
A familiar voice answered.
"Amara, this is Deputy Chief Martinez. We've been trying to reach you."
"I'm at Denver International Airport."
"Are you having trouble?"
"Yes."
She looked directly at Bradley.
"There's an incident at Gate C24."
Bradley folded his arms.
He was still smiling.
"Tell your accomplice to explain herself."
Amara pressed the speaker button.
Martinez's voice filled the gate area.
"Detective Sergeant Washington, we need to confirm your arrival in Washington tonight. The Attorney General wants you at tomorrow's ceremony."
Bradley's smile disappeared.
The crowd went silent.
Martinez continued.
"Your presentation on transportation discrimination is scheduled for tomorrow morning."
Amara glanced at Bradley.
"I'm afraid the gate agent has confiscated my federal credentials and destroyed my boarding pass."
Silence.
Then Martinez asked:
"Who?"
"Bradley Hutchinson."
Bradley's face went pale.
Martinez's voice hardened.
"Is he currently holding your credentials?"
"Yes."
Bradley looked down at the identification in his hand.
For the first time, he actually read it.
The seal.
The official designation.
The identification number.
The signature.
The words he had ignored because he had already decided who Amara was.
His fingers began trembling.
"You... you're really—"
Amara interrupted.
"Yes."
Bradley stared at her.
The woman he had called a fraud was exactly who she said she was.
Worse, she was investigating the very kind of conduct he had just displayed.
Martinez spoke again.
"Amara, do you need federal assistance?"
Amara looked around Gate C24.
At the passengers.
At the cameras.
At Bradley.
"Yes."
Bradley swallowed.
The power he had enjoyed only minutes earlier was disappearing.
And he could feel it.
Flight 447 Is Grounded
Amara ended the call.
Then she turned toward Bradley.
"Mr. Hutchinson, this incident is now part of an active federal investigation."
Bradley shook his head.
"I didn't know."
"You didn't know what?"
"That you were federal."
Amara stared at him.
"That is not the point."
Bradley looked desperate.
"I was doing my job."
"Your job does not include destroying passenger documents."
She pointed toward the briefcase.
"It does not include taking confidential government records."