The atmosphere inside the precinct shifted in an instant. Conversations died mid-sentence, and officers who moments ago had been relaxed now stood rigid as a wave of authority swept through the room. Agent David Carter’s presence was undeniable—commanding, deliberate, and unyielding. Even those unfamiliar with him could sense it immediately: this was not a man to challenge.
Reed, who had been swaggering moments earlier, froze as Agent Carter’s piercing gaze found him. His confidence crumbled, replaced by a look of fear and confusion.
Captain Johnson emerged from his office, drawn by the sudden tension. His expression darkened as his eyes landed on the FBI agent standing in his precinct. “What’s going on here?” he demanded, his tone clipped.
Before Reed could speak, Carter’s calm, steady voice filled the silence. “My son, Jamal Carter, was wrongfully arrested and assaulted by your officer,” he said, each word measured yet sharp as steel. “I’m here for his immediate release and a full investigation into what happened.”
The room went still. Officers exchanged uneasy glances. Captain Johnson, sensing the magnitude of the situation, straightened. “Of course, Agent Carter,” he said quickly. “We’ll resolve this at once.”
In the interrogation room, Jamal looked up as the door opened. Relief washed over him when he saw his father. The bruises on his wrists and the lingering ache from the handcuffs were reminders of the humiliation he had endured. But seeing his father’s expression—a mix of anger and fierce resolve—rekindled something in him: hope.
When Jamal was released, the two locked eyes. Neither spoke, but the message was clear. This was not over.
Reed, still pale, tried to defend himself. “He matched the description—”
Agent Carter cut in sharply. “What description was that? Black, young, and walking home?” The question struck like a blade, and the silence that followed said everything.