Two county bailiffs stood beside the metal detector frame, their hands resting on their leather duty belts.

“Hold it right there, ma’am,” the older bailiff said, stepping into the middle of the aisle.

“You can’t bring a weapon into this building.”

I stopped three feet away from him, unclipped the safety ledger from my vest pocket, and showed him the orange flag in the rifle’s receiver.

“This weapon has been verified inert, logged under active military duty orders, and tagged by the reserve armorer,” I said.

“Here’s the federal transit clearance.”