“Sit in that chair,” Will said. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”
The robbers had set up a campsite beside their van, a couple of blankets laid out with wide, clear bottles of water and cans and boxes of food, and two chairs made of canvas stretched over a fold-up metal framework. Malloy sat in the nearest chair and left his hands in his lap.
Will stood in front of him and seemed to be sizing him up more scrupulously than he had before. He tapped his own upper arm. “What are you? A sergeant or something? Reed treats you like a sergeant.”
Malloy checked his shoulder where his Senior Lead Officer patch, two chevrons and a star, was stitched in silver. He tried to make his face…
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