Flash Fiction story of a rookie FBI agent being schooled by a thirty year veteran.
After months of exhaustive investigation, FBI SAC Harris shouts at a rookie agent. “Agent Marx, take Mr. Fanning into custody.”
“I can’t do that, sir.”
“Say again, Agent Marx!”
“I can’t do that… We don’t have any proof.”
“Oh, is that so, Agent Marx?” Harris asks, as he turns away and reissues his order to another agent. “Special Agent Black, take Agent Bennett and place Mr. Fanning under arrest while Agent Marx and I chat.”
“Yes, sir!” Agent Black responds without hesitation, then departs the room.
As SAC Harris turns back to Marx, he begins the rookie’s first field-lesson. “Agent Marx, do you know who I am?”
“Yes, sir; you’re SAC Harris.”
“Are you familiar with the acronym: ‘S—A—C’?”
“Yes, sir; it stands for Special Agent in Charge,” Marx responds with unbridled confidence.
“That’s good, Agent Marx,” says Harris, while assessing the rookie’s response. “So, when did you join Task Force Delta?”
“Three months ago, sir.”
“And, you’ve been an FBI agent for how long, Agent Marx?” Harris asks, while struggling to mask his contempt.
“Three months, sir.”
“That’s amazing, Agent Marx… I’d have never guessed you graduated from the Academy just ninety days ago,” Harris taunts the rookie with veiled sarcasm.
“Why thank you, sir,” Marx answers, his swelling pride on display for everyone to see.
“I bet you graduated top-of-your-class at Quantico, didn’t you?”
“You’re right, sir!” Marx answers, his pride now swollen to mammoth proportion.
“Did you cheat, Agent Marx?”
“Cheat? Oh no, sir!”
“Then explain why you don’t know FBI agents don’t need ‘proof’ to make arrests. Agent Marx, it’s a straightforward process. We gather evidence to establish probable cause, then make arrests. It’s the prosecutors who must meet the burden of ‘proof’ for conviction. Understood?”
“Understood, sir! Lesson learned.”