I shook my head, still smiling. "Fine, I'll try to get the other marshal to sign off, and then you call in Bernardo and Olaf, but I can't get bodyguards from home to come help us. We're marshals, they aren't, and being able to deputize people isn't a power the Marshals Service has been granted in a very long time."
"You haven't been keeping up on current events."
I frowned at him. "What?"
"Last month a marshal died, because backup didn't arrive in time, but a soldier just home from Iraq was able to take the marshal's weapons and finish the shapeshifter off."
"I did hear about that. It was tragic and brave and, so what?"
"You really don't check the official emails, do you?"
"Maybe not as often as I should; what'd I miss?"
He got his phone out of his pocket and used his finger to roll through emails, then held the tiny screen up to me. I read it through twice. "You're joking me."
"It's official."
"We have the right to deputize not only if we are without backup, but if we feel that an inpidual's skill set is of benefit to the execution of our warrant and will save civilian lives. Mother of God, Edward, this gives us carte blanche to form a fucking mob."
"There's potential for abuse, yes."
"Potential for abuse, there's potential for pitchforks and torches," I said.
"Anita, come on, no one would use pitchforks or torches anymore. It'd be flashlights and guns."
"This isn't funny, Edward; this is a civil rights problem waiting to happen."
"I didn't know you cared about that, or did that change when you helped get the law passed to spare little vampires when their master is the bad guy?"