Inside it sat Lieutenant Colonel Marcus Reed.
Marcus had been Daniel's operations officer for three years.
He recognized Daniel immediately.
And he also recognized the patrol car.
Marcus stopped.
He got out.
"Daniel?"
Mercer turned.
"Stay in your vehicle."
Marcus looked at Daniel's handcuffs.
"What happened?"
"Keep moving."
Marcus didn't.
"That's Major Brooks."
Mercer stared at him.
"I know who he says he is."
Marcus took out his phone.
"Then verify it."
Mercer stepped toward him.
"Are you interfering with a traffic stop?"
"No."
"Then leave."
Marcus looked at Daniel.
Daniel gave him the smallest shake of his head.
Not yet.
Marcus understood.
He got back into his car.
But he didn't drive away.
Instead, he called Redstone.
Within minutes, the base commander knew.
And then the entire situation changed.
Inside the command center at Redstone Air Base, Colonel Amelia Grant was preparing for the memorial flight when her aide entered.
"Ma'am."
Grant looked up.
"What is it?"
"It's Major Brooks."
She stood.
"Is there a problem with the formation?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then what?"
The aide hesitated.
"He's been detained."
Grant's expression hardened.
"By whom?"
"Bellwood County Sheriff's Office."
She stared at him.
"Why?"
"Traffic stop."
"Where?"
"County Road 17."
Grant walked toward the operations room.
"Get me the sheriff."
"Yes, ma'am."
She stopped.
"And suspend the formation."
The aide looked surprised.
"Ma'am?"
Grant turned.
"Until I know exactly what happened, nobody takes off."
The memorial flight had been practiced for weeks.
Four aircraft.
Four pilots.
One missing-man formation.
Thousands of people were already gathering near the memorial grounds.
But none of that mattered now.
A commander had been handcuffed on a public road.
And Colonel Grant intended to find out why.
At the county station, Sheriff Thomas Hale received the call.
He had known Mercer for years.
He also knew about the complaints.
Excessive stops.
Aggressive language.
Unnecessary searches.
But every time a complaint came across his desk, Mercer had an explanation.
Today, however, the explanation was different.
Because today the person in handcuffs was not simply another driver.
He was one of the senior officers at the largest military installation in the region.
The sheriff picked up the phone.
"Mercer."
"Yes, Sheriff."
"Who did you arrest?"
"Nobody."
"Don't play games with me."
Mercer glanced toward Daniel.
"I detained a suspect."
"Name."
"Daniel Brooks."
Hale went silent.
"Major Daniel Brooks?"
Mercer looked annoyed.
"Apparently."
"Do you understand who he is?"
"He's a man who was speeding."
"Mercer, his military records are probably visible from the station roof."
"I don't care."
Hale closed his eyes.
"Where are you?"
"County Road 17."
"Do not move him."
Mercer frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
Hale hung up.
He immediately called Colonel Grant.
"Colonel, I apologize."
Grant's voice was controlled.
"I don't want an apology yet, Sheriff."
"I understand."
"I want facts."
"I'm getting them."
"And Sheriff?"
"Yes?"
"If Major Brooks was treated differently because of his race, uniform, or position, this will become considerably larger than a traffic stop."
Hale swallowed.
"I understand."
On the roadside, Daniel sat in the back of the patrol car.
The windows were open.
The heat was unbearable.