“Who are you going to call a black? No one is going to take a slave like you seriously. Go back to Africa where you belong,” Sergeant Cole shouted.
He didn’t even ask her name, just saw the skin and let the venom do the talking.
General Regina M. Cal blinked, confused by the tone more than the words.
The way that man looked at her like she was scum, like her rank and dignity meant nothing.
“Pardon me,” she replied firmly, not raising her voice.
“What’s the problem, officer?”
“The problem is you’re in a car that doesn’t belong to you, dressed like you’re playing soldier,” Officer Henkins chimed in, laughing.
He circled the vehicle, feigning inspection. “Pentagon plates, who gave them to you? Your pimp.”
Regina felt her bl:ood run cold.
Now two cops who couldn’t even read a badge were talking to her like she was trash.
“My name is General Regina McCallum. You guys are committing an er.”
Shut up,” Cole yelled, pulling out the handcuffs.
“I don’t care if you say you’re a Black Michelle O:ba_ma. This car is stolen, and you’re under arrest.”
Before she could respond, Regina was forcibly yanked out of her seat.
The cold metal of the handcuffs bit into her skin as they shoved her down.
“Don’t cry, baby,” Kins whispered in her ear with a sickening grin. “Hopefully, they’ll treat you better than us in jail, or they’ll make you clean toilets. Give me your phone now.
“You’re going to wish you’d never touched me.”
“Your phone,” Henkins mocked, rummaging through the SV as if it were his property.
“What is this? A goddamn government iPhone. Man, this country’s gone to hell.”
He pulled out the device like someone finding drugs in a purse, held it up, and waved it in front of Regina as if he were showing her a trophy.
“Who gave this to you, black girl? Did you steal it, or did you take it from some soldier after warming his bed?”
Sergeant Cole let out a harsh laugh, his tone bitter and only years of accumulated, unfiltered hatred bearing his own.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of those Army inclusion experiments,” he said as he tightened the handcuffs even further, tightening them until they left red marks.
“They give suits and titles to any monkey now. And look, they even learn to speak properly.”
Regina swallowed. Her eyes were fixed on the hot asphalt. “You’re violating federal protocols,” she managed to say, her voice strained.
“And you think I care about that, ape?” Cole said with a A crooked smile. “The only law that matters here is mine. And on my watch, no black b:it:ch with airs of grandeur rides around in a car like this.”
Henkin leaned out the vehicle door and opened the glove compartment, throwing out papers, credentials, and folders like they were trash.
And look at this, Cole.
“Does she have classified documents or what she thinks are documents? This bitch really plays important. Maybe we should call immigration”, Cole added, laughing again, or animal control.
Regina couldn’t move. She felt the burning in her wrists, the heat scorching her skin, her uniform wrinkled, and those damn Henqins going through her life like she was worthless.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” she repeated more quietly this time.
Henqin approached, cupped her face with a dirty, rough hand, forcing her to look at him.
“All I know is that you’re going to spend the night in the women’s cell, without a uniform, without a name, and without that face that says, ‘I’m worth more than…'” You, because out here you’re nobody.
Cole began reading something aloud from one of the documents he’d found, a letter from the Department of Defense addressed to MCAL.
“Look, Henkins, this says Brigadier General Regina MC Cal. Uh-huh. Do you believe this—”
“Yes, I believe it,” she finally said, barely lifting her chin. “And if you have half a brain, you’ll give me back that phone. Right now.”
Cole slapped her without thinking. A sharp, swift blow that left her reeling, even though she was still handcuffed. “One more, black girl,” he said in a whisper close to her ear.
“One more and I swear you’ll forget who you were.” The blow didn’t knock her down, but it did stagger her.
The taste of blood filled her mouth. Regina Mcal didn’t say anything, didn’t cry, didn’t beg, but inside something was starting to break, and it wasn’t fear; it was a kind of silent, sharp, surgical rage.
“Now you understand how things work, General,” Cole spat, crouching down to her level. “You’re not in the fucking Pentagon here, you’re on my highway.”
“My turn. My rules.” She turned her head, looking at the cell phone still in her hand. “That phone is a direct line. If they do anything else, this nonsense is going to ruin it.”
“Your phone!” Henkins yelled and slammed it against the pavement.
“You know what I think?” Cole said, crossing his arms as he looked at her with disdain. “I think you’re not even in the military. I bet you bought that uniform online, one of those costumes idiots wear on Halloween. What’s next?”
Telling us you’re an astronaut or the president,” Henkins added with a giggle as he circled her. “Although with that ass, maybe you could aspire to be a military base stripper.”
“What do you think, Cole?” Cole came up behind her and shoved her to her knees, her hands still cuffed.
“Don’t get all high and mighty on me, slave. Look at you kneeling, bloodied in the street like what you’ve done before.” You are. Nothing.
Regina took a deep breath. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. Her face was hardened, but her eyes spoke another language.
One that Nico Colleen and Henkins understood. It wasn’t a plea, it was a sentence.
Regina, still kneeling, still bleeding, looked Henkins straight in the eyes and said in a calm voice, “Last chance. Give me back the phone. You can still stop this.”
Henkins spat in her face. Cole sneered again, but his laughter no longer had the same air of control. Something was slipping through their fingers, and they didn’t know how much yet. And Regina, still not moving, swallowed. She felt the sting of the blow on her face.
Regina looked up, staring at Henkins, then at Cole. “What’s wrong?” she said with a calmness that didn’t match her condition. “Are you afraid that one call will leave you without your badge?” Cole snorted, but avoided her gaze. Henkins took a half step back, without knowing how much. Wanting, as if he’d sensed something behind her words, something bigger than him.
She stood up with difficulty, the handcuffs clinking behind her back. “Give me just one minute, just that, one damn minute.”
“If you think I’m a nobody, if you’re so sure I’m in this uniform for charity or an inclusion program, she took a step forward”, her gaze fixed like a missile.
“Then what’s the problem with letting me make a call?”
” Are you threatening us?” Henkins snorted, but her voice wasn’t as confident as before.
“I’m offering you a chance to get off the train before it derails,” she retorted, without raising her voice.
“Because if I dial that number, it’s over. Not just for you, for your boss, for the department, for this county.”
Cole tried to laugh, but his lip trembled. “You don’t call anyone. We already broke your little toy,” he said, kicking the remains of the phone. But even as he did, his voice held a crack.
Regina smiled. Barely a gesture.
A young woman in her 20s, with curly hair and thick glasses, ran across the street with a cell phone in her hand. She held it tightly, as if she were carrying a loaded gun.
“Take mine!” he shouted fearlessly. “Here, call whoever you need to call.”
“Hey, back off,” Cole shouted, advancing toward her. “And she’s a general, asshole. I serve too, and I know what that uniform is,” the young woman spat, still holding the phone.
Cole tried to stop her, but another witness, a burly man wearing a veteran’s cap, stepped in and pushed him back. “Touch her and I swear you’re the ones who’ll need backup,” he told the sergeant through gritted teeth.
Regina raised her handcuffed hands. The young woman brought the cell phone up to her face.
Unlocked, the screen trembling between her fingers. Regina quickly dialed from memory.
She didn’t type “DIP.”
“Click.”
“Defense Communications.”
“Identify yourself.”
The voice on the other end was robotic, efficient, confident. Regina swallowed.
She spoke directly into the speakerphone.
Brigadier General Regina MC Cal, code 4481, Lima. Illegally detained by Staff County officers. Approximately Interstate 95, Exit 140, in front of the Marconil gas station.
You are destroying federal property and compromising operational security. A whisper of astonishment ran through the crowd.
Cole froze.
Henkin paled. “I repeat, armed officers, hostile behavior. Possible racial profiling. First responder unit, alpha priority. Transmitting under duress. I repeat, alpha priority. Confirm general coordinates.” The most alert voice responded. Regina barely managed to say, “GPS active on damaged device, visual triangulation required.” “I repeat, hostility with FIR.” “It’s over,” Henkins shouted, pushing the cell phone away. The device flew, fell to the pavement, but it was too late. The call had gone through and would not be ignored. The people around him burst into shouts.
Some applauded, others recorded. Cole backed away, cursing under his breath. Henkins looked around like a cornered animal. And Regina—Regina just lifted her head, her lip split, her gaze steady, the clock beginning to tick. Cole and Henkins were silent. They both stared toward the highway, where the horizon line vibrated under the heat of the asphalt. Something in the air had changed since the call. “It wasn’t paranoia, it was protocol. That call was fake,” Cole muttered, more in self-deception than affirmation.
“It was theater,” Henkins added, though he could no longer hide the sweat on his neck or the trembling in his fingers. “They handcuffed me for no reason,” Regina said firmly, without moving from the spot. “They beat me, insulted me, and destroyed federal property. All of that was recorded on more than one device, but none of it will matter in the next five minutes because they have no idea what they just unleashed.” Cole looked at his watch, then at his patrol car. He thought about running away.
For a moment, he actually considered it, and then, without sirens, without fuss, three unmarked black vehicles arrived, braking with surgical precision. The doors opened simultaneously. Two men got out of the first vehicle. Tall gray suits, without visible plates, but with the demeanor of those who don’t need to show them. One of them looked at Regina. “General M. Secal.” “Yes,” she replied, chin high, her handcuffs gleaming in the sun. “Can you confirm that you were coerced?” “Yes.
The second agent was already walking toward Henkins as he pulled something from his inside pocket. A small badge with a gold seal. He didn’t show it for more than a second. There was no need. Officer Henkins, you and your partner are going to lower your weapons now. Who are you? He tried to roar, but his voice failed him on the last syllable. Federal Protection Agency. And that woman you handcuffed without charge is an active member of the Pentagon’s strategic high command. The silence turned lethal.
Regina twisted her torso slightly, revealing her wrists. “Take these off now.” One of the agents approached. Using a special tool, he released the handcuffs with a sharp click. Regina dropped them to the floor without even looking at them. She rubbed her metal-marked wrists. Henkins raised his hands. “They told us the vehicle was suspicious. You knew exactly what you were doing,” the agent interrupted with a glare. “And now you’re going to stay very, very still until the federal jurisdiction officers arrive.”
Cole tried to take a step back. I didn’t hit him, we were just trying to verify his identity. Regina turned to him for the first time since the call. Now out of handcuffs, now back in control. Verify my identity. She repeated with a curt smile. You called me a monkey, a slave, and a bitch. You handcuffed me. You spit on me. That’s verification. The second officer approached her and offered her a tablet. On the screen, a form with options enabled. “Ma’am, here you can start the emergency disciplinary protocol.”
Do you want to file a formal complaint? Now.” Regina looked at Cole, then at Genenkins. “Not yet.” The two men blinked in confusion. Regina pressed her lips together. “I want them to feel what it’s like not knowing when the roof is going to fall on their heads. I want them to sleep tonight wondering if tomorrow they’ll still be in uniform or if they’ll be cleaning desks in a basement of forgotten files.” Cole swallowed. “Henkins wasn’t saying a word, but yes,” Regina added to the crowd without taking her eyes off them.
Activate the protocol. The agent tapped the screen. A red icon flashed, and with that, the official clock began to tick. Henkins was barely standing. Cole gritted his teeth, his jaw tight, knowing that arguing was futile. Every word he said was a bullet in his own professional coffin. “You will be held here,” one of the officers said in a tone that didn’t invite a reply. “A unit from the JG Judge Advocate General is on its way. You will have the right to legal representation, but preliminary charges will be read to you in the next few hours.”
Charges,” Henkins mumbled almost in a whisper. “I know how fast. Everything was recorded,” the officer replied. “And your behavior toward a high-ranking officer, in uniform and with a Department of Defense badge, already constitutes abuse of authority, racial profiling, destruction of federal property, and assaulting military personnel on active duty.” Regina crossed her arms. Her face was still stained with blood, and the marks from the handcuffs were clear on her skin. But her posture was solid.
Imposing. “I don’t need to raise my voice,” she said without looking at anyone. “Because I have rank, I have evidence, and I have patience. What’s coming for you isn’t a bullet, it’s a slow, public fall without a safety net.” One of the officers nodded. “Your supervisors have already been notified. The civilians’ body cameras are being collected under surveillance.” Federal authorization. In addition, the body cameras they both wore were activated. He looked at Cole coldly. “For yourselves, and what was said there can’t be undone.”
Cole swallowed. He attempted a final defense. “I was just following the procedure. I was confused by the situation.” Confused, Regina interrupted, this time with a voice that finally cracked a little. “You mistook me for what, Cole? For? For a threat? For someone who didn’t deserve respect just because of the color of their skin?” Henkin closed his eyes, and Regina added, “I didn’t come here to destroy you. You did it yourselves. I just pressed the button.” Minutes later, another federal vehicle arrived.
Two JG agents got out. They introduced themselves, took the names of both officers, and began the on-site process. Cole and Henkins’ badges, service weapons, and credentials were taken away right there. One of the agents read the order that officers had been suspended without pay until the investigation into misconduct with potential federal criminal charges was completed. Cole, for the first time, lowered his head. He said nothing. Henkinsch was breathing rapidly. He was pale, defeated. Regina watched in silence as they were led to the federal vehicle, without violence, without mockery, only with the hollow dignity of someone who falls by their own hand.
When they finished, one of the agents turned to Regina. “Do you wish to be assigned an escort for your transfer, General?” She shook her head. “I don’t want to drive myself. I’m fine.” The agent nodded. “Let’s make sure your vehicle is ready. Do you wish a medical report?” “Additional report.” “No, what I need.” She looked toward the horizon without emotion. It had already begun to happen. And in January of 1995, as the sun set and the black vehicles disappeared, General MC Cal was left alone, finally at peace.
