The first strike did not break the glass. Officer Cole Mitchell’s heavy flashlight slammed into the driver-side window of the matte-black Lamborghini Huracán with a hard, metallic crack that echoed across the shoulder of Interstate 85.
Inside the car, Special Agent Derek Hayes didn't even flinch. He sat behind the wheel with both hands placed firmly at ten and two, his crisp white dress shirt glowing beneath the flashing red and blue lights spilling through the cabin. At thirty-eight, Derek possessed the controlled stillness of a man who had spent a decade learning that panic only made lethal situations worse. His close-cropped hair, neatly lined beard, and athletic frame gave him a commanding presence, but on this dark stretch of highway, none of that seemed to matter to the man outside.
Mitchell leaned his face inches from the glass, his breath fogging the rain-slicked window. "Get out, thug. Nobody believes this Lamborghini belongs to you."
Derek turned his head slowly. Rain poured over the slick carbon-fiber roof of the two-hundred-thousand-dollar supercar. Behind them, a city patrol cruiser sat angled across the shoulder with its emergency lights flashing. A second officer, twenty-nine-year-old Kevin Lawson, stood near the rear bumper, staring nervously at his mobile terminal screen, trying to verify the registration data Derek had provided minutes earlier.
Derek kept his tone ice-cold and steady. "Break that window, Officer, and you’ll spend the rest of your career explaining to a federal judge why you compromised an active investigation."
Mitchell scoffed, a sneer twisting his mouth. "Federal investigation? That’s the best excuse you could come up with?" He raised the heavy maglite and struck the reinforced glass a second time. A thin, spiderweb crack branched across the upper corner. "Keep bluffing and I’ll drag your ass out through the windshield before backup even finishes running your name."
Derek’s eyes hardened. He reached deliberately toward the inside pocket of his jacket. Mitchell’s hand immediately dropped to his holster, his thumb unsnapping the leather retention strap. "Stop moving! Hands where I can see them!"
"Reaching for my credentials," Derek said, freezing instantly. "Ask your partner what the computer says."
Mitchell yelled over his shoulder, "Kevin! Anything on this vehicle?"