He stared through the glass at the sky.
He could hear aircraft in the distance.
The sound was faint but unmistakable.
His formation was supposed to be preparing.
Instead, he was sitting in handcuffs.
Mercer opened the driver's door.
"You're going to be booked."
Daniel looked at him.
"On what charge?"
"Resisting."
Daniel almost smiled.
"I haven't resisted anything."
"You questioned my authority."
"That's not resisting."
Mercer leaned closer.
"You think your rank makes you special."
Daniel looked at him.
"No."
"Then why are you acting like it?"
"Because you keep asking me to explain something that doesn't make sense."
Mercer slammed the door.
Cole stood outside.
"Officer Mercer."
"What?"
"I checked the plate."
Mercer looked at him.
"And?"
"It's registered to Major Daniel Brooks."
"I know."
"No, sir."
Cole hesitated.
"His vehicle is registered to the United States government."
Mercer stared.
"What?"
"He's assigned to Redstone."
Mercer's face changed.
Cole lowered his voice.
"And there's something else."
"What?"
"He's listed as deputy commander of the 91st Tactical Operations Group."
Mercer said nothing.
A distant roar rolled across the valley.
This time it was louder.
Daniel looked up.
The sound came from the direction of Redstone.
Four fighter jets had lifted from the runway.
But they weren't heading toward the memorial.
They were circling.
Waiting.
At the base, Colonel Grant stood beside the runway.
The pilots remained in their aircraft.
She had made one decision.
The memorial flight would not proceed until Daniel was released.
But the pilots had another idea.
They requested permission for a holding pattern.
Grant looked toward the sky.
Then toward the county road beyond the hills.
"Give them ten minutes."
The four aircraft climbed.
The sound became impossible to ignore.
Back on County Road 17, Mercer stepped away from the patrol car.
Daniel heard the roar.
He knew the aircraft.
He knew their engine notes.
He knew the formation.
His colleagues were flying overhead.
Mercer looked up.
Four fighter jets crossed the sky.
They were far too high to be identified clearly from the ground.
But they were unmistakably military.
Cole whispered:
"That's our base."
Mercer looked at Daniel.
"You called them?"
Daniel shook his head.
"No."
"Then why are they here?"
Daniel looked toward the sky.
"Because they're waiting."
"For what?"
Daniel met his eyes.
"For me."
Nobody spoke.
The jets disappeared beyond the ridge.
Thirty seconds later, another formation appeared.
Then another.
They weren't attacking.
They weren't threatening anyone.
They were simply holding position.
Waiting.
The radio inside Mercer's patrol car crackled.
"Unit 12, county dispatch."
Mercer reached for it.
"Go ahead."
"Sheriff requests your immediate return to station."
Mercer frowned.
"We're still handling the stop."
"Negative. Return immediately."
Mercer looked at Daniel.
"Get out."
Daniel stepped from the vehicle.
Mercer unlocked the cuffs.
The metal came away from Daniel's wrists.
Red marks remained on his skin.
Cole looked at him.
"I'm sorry, sir."
Daniel rubbed his wrists.
"You should save that apology."
"For what?"
"For when you're ready to say it to someone who can actually change something."
The drive back to the station was silent.
At the county headquarters, Sheriff Hale waited outside.