I didn't bother lowering my voice.
"Commander," I said clearly into the microphone. "Deputy Miller has just arrived to confiscate my medical records."
"I hear him," Elise’s voice came back, echoing slightly from the speaker, loud enough for Dr. Aris to hear every word. "I have the photos of the fraudulent chart, Dad. Do not sign anything. I am locking down the clinic's digital network from the Pentagon mainframe right now. They can't delete the original draft."
Aris turned pale, staring at the small device in my hand as if it were a live grenade.
"Tell the Deputy to come in," I said to the doctor, slipping the phone back into my pocket. "Let's see how deep this mistake goes."
CHAPTER 2 CONTINUED
"Where’s the sign-off, Aris?" Miller asked, not bothering to look at me. He kept his eyes on the doctor, who was practically pressing himself against the supply cabinets. "Ray wants this wrapped up before the morning shift change. We don't have all day to babysit."
Dr. Aris swallowed hard, his eyes darting from the deputy to the small phone resting in my shirt pocket, and finally to the frozen computer monitor in the corner.
"I... I can't print it, Ty," Aris stammered, using the deputy's first name in a desperate bid for familiarity. "The system won't let me access the local directory. The whole network just locked up."
Miller stopped chewing his gum. He frowned, his hand dropping instinctively to rest on the heavy leather of his utility belt. He walked past me, his boots squeaking sharply against the pristine linoleum, and leaned over the computer terminal. He tapped the spacebar heavily. The screen didn't flinch. It displayed a stark gray background with a flashing cursor, completely overriding the county clinic's standard medical portal.
"What did you do to it?" Miller demanded, glaring at the doctor. "You forgot your password again? Reboot the damn thing."
"I didn't do anything," Aris protested, his voice cracking slightly. "I hit print, and then... then he took a picture of the screen." Aris pointed a trembling finger directly at my chest. "He took a picture of the draft, and then the whole system just went dead."
Miller turned around slowly. His eyes locked onto the black edge of the phone protruding from my canvas pocket. The casual boredom vanished from his face, replaced instantly by the aggressive, coiled tension of a cornered predator. He took a step toward me, closing the distance in the small examination room.
"You taking pictures in a medical facility, old man?" Miller asked, his voice dropping an octave. "That's a severe privacy violation. Hand over the device. Right now."
"I was documenting my own chart," I said, keeping my posture relaxed, though every muscle in my legs was bracing for the physical impact I knew was coming. "And I don't think you want this phone. The line is open."
Miller let out a short, harsh laugh. He closed the final gap between us, invading my personal space. I could smell stale coffee and cheap peppermint gum on his breath.
"I don't care who you're talking to," Miller sneered, reaching out with a heavy hand. "This is county property, and you're part of an active investigation. Give me the phone, or I'm taking it off you."
I didn't move. I looked him dead in the eyes. "If you touch me, you are escalating a federal tampering charge into a physical assault under the color of law. Walk away, Deputy."
The warning only fueled his ego. Miller lunged forward, grabbing the lapel of my jacket with his left hand while his right hand dug roughly into my pocket.
The violent jerk pulled my freshly reset right shoulder forward. A sickening wave of white-hot agony tore through the joint, so intense it temporarily blinded me. I gritted my teeth, refusing to give him a sound, keeping my feet planted firmly on the linoleum so he couldn't drag me to the floor. He ripped the phone out of the pocket and took a step back, holding it up like a trophy.
"Got it," Miller said, looking down at the screen.
"Deputy Tyler Miller," a voice said clearly from the phone's speaker.
Miller froze. He stared at the device in his hand.
Elise's voice cut through the sterile air of the examination room. It wasn't the voice of a concerned daughter. It was the absolute, unyielding tone of a commanding officer speaking to a subordinate who had just crossed a fatal line.