Friday night and the police station already had a busy rhythm to it. Callen caught the eye of the desk Sargent, nodded and then headed on up to the 4th floor. Detective Millard sat at the back of the room but the smell of food caught everyone's attention.
"Forty seven fifty," Callen said and clutched the box tightly. He knew better than pass over the burgers before the cash was in his hand.
"Ok everybody, anyone who wants food put your money on the table now," said Millard as he reached into the desk, pulled out his wallet and waved at Callen to drop the box.
"Damn it Millard, how do you manage to get the kid to always deliver?" The women threw a fiver and a couple of ones on the table then reached into the box. She lifted the wrapped package to her nose and inhaled. "It sure beats the smell of blood."
Callen moved out of the way and stared at the notice board while as he kept an eye on the money checking who had paid. He never looked at desks where information was held that he really didn't want to know. It wouldn't do to be caught being curious about any information sitting around.
"What you looking at kid."
I'm twenty thought Callen as he glanced over his shoulder and saw Nate. "Nothing, it's just a recruitment notice."
"What, thinking of applying?" Nate leaned over for a closer look. "Shit, they aren't going to take the likes of you. DEA only take people with experience. Hey everyone, Callen wants to attend the DEA seminar, he thinking of applying for a job."
"It's open to all looser, just because they turned you down." The woman took a bite of her burger and placed it on her desk. She walked over to the board, removed the notice then slapped it on the photocopier. "Here," she held out the copy to Callen then pinned the original back on the board. "Good for you. Anyone can go, the only thing you waste is your own time and you might learn something. Anyway, if you can't take no as an answer you shouldn't be in law enforcement in the first place." She glared at Nate and drifted back to her desk.
"Here kid." Millard held out a pile of notes and coins which Callen took and counted. There was a card in the middle with Millard's name and details. "Keep it, and if you need a reference call me?"
Callen slid the money into his pocket along with the card. It was a nice gesture but one that Callen wouldn't be using. The cops were good tippers so he will chuck the card a long way from the station. It never hurt to be polite.
"Ok everybody back to work, this is not a holiday camp." With those words major crime started to hum again as Callen slipped out the door.
The room was filled with cops and students. Callen didn't know why he had bothered turning up to a drugs enforcement seminar but the room was warm and the coffee was free. He grabbed a few cookies and looked for a seat.
Callen slid into a row near the middle where he could keep a discrete eye on the other attendee's, the exits and the coffee table. He picked up the reading material on the seat and flicked through. All Callen knew about the DEA was that they were a group of morons who let crack slip into the neighbourhoods. How hard could it be to stop some drug dealers importing the stuff?
His shoulders slumped as he read the first few pages. Of the people employed by the Agency it appeared that 60% had a diploma, 30% were from the military and that left 10% who weren't either but in Callen's opinion would most likely be cops. A chance of a career was not looking good. He wondered if he could slip out without anyone noticing.
"Sure glad you could make it Callen. You just won me twenty bucks."
Callen looked at the woman who had just blocked his quick exit. "Ma'am." It was the woman who had photocopied the seminar notice.
"Just call me Jane. Quite, they're starting." Jane shuffled into the seat which put a halt to Callen's early departure.
The talk didn't take long, just a few slides, some basic information and a quick question and answer session. As the Senior Agent talked his eyes made contact with the participants and the passion in his voice caught Callen's attention.
"You interested," asked Jane with a sparkle in her eyes. "Come on let's go talk one on one." Jane made her way to the front.
As Callen followed he noticed a lot of people were leaving but a small group had stayed behind. These people would be his competition which was a completely stupid thought because there was no way he was lodging an application.
"You got any questions son."
Callen realised the Agent was talking to him. Yeah thought Callen, why do cops always call people son or kid. He was twenty for Christ's sake. Everyone was looking at him and Callen scrambled to find a question that didn't sound stupid.
"There are no wrong questions kids, there are only wrong answers."
"It says here I have to prove I have citizenship, how do I do that?" the question kind of popped out.
"You need a birth certificate to prove you were born in the good old US of A, or a passport. Do you have a problem, with that?"
"I don't have a birth cert" Callen blushed. It felt like everyone was staring at him. "I've lived in foster care all my life. They gave me a social security number and an identity card but I don't have a birth certificate. I don't have a place of birth and I don't have listed parents."
"Well son, you give us all the details you know and the DEA will do a background investigation. If you are telling the truth there shouldn't be any problems. Next?"
"It says here there is a drug test, what sort of test," said a student in blue.
"You will be given a questionnaire, asked to piss in a cup then given a medical test. The DEA expects you to be clean when you apply. You will be employed to catch the users not be a user. If course if you are sent undercover we also don't expect you to inhale." The Agent chuckled along with some of the cops. "If you want to continue to smoke the dope then the DEA isn't for you."
"What about medical benefits?"
"You can expect to…"
Callen backed out of the group for a few steps before he turned and made his way outside. He stood in the cool air, application in his hand. What was the use of an application form? The Agent talked a good talk but the reality of the situation was Callen wasn't qualified. Hell, he didn't even have a high school diploma. Sure he had passed five subjects in the GED exams when he sat a couple of years ago, but he was pretty sure the DEA wouldn't hire a dropout from school. They were looking for people with degrees or other middle class qualifications. And there was no way he was going to join the military or the police just to get into the DEA. He wasn't that fond of Miami Vice.
Looser, he thought, and wondered why he had gone to the meeting. He kicked at the stone and looked around feeling depressed. Maybe he should quit his job and go work the oil fields in the Gulf. It was good money, better than working at McDonalds. Probably better than working for the DEA. Hell, with his skills he could work his way up to foreman in no time.
But it was hard dirty work and they didn't pay high wages to high school dropout without an element of risk.
"So, are you going to apply?"
"What?" Callen spun to the right wondering how someone had snuck up on him.
"Apply, are you going to apply?" said Jane.
"Nice dream but they aren't going to employ someone like me."
"Well they aren't going to employ me either but it won't stop me from applying. The best I can hope for is an interview. What's stopping you?"
"But you're a cop."
"Yeah, but in case you haven't noticed I'm a woman, I'm black and I have no education. I grew up in Harlem. I can do something about the education but there is nothing I can do about being a black female. At least you are a white male. Me, I have to hope for some affirmative action programme to get me in but I aren't too proud to put my hand up and say pick me. You need to learn to take a chance kid."
Callen glanced at the papers in his hand. "Are you really going to lodge an application?"
"Sure, why not. Look if you want you bring your written application over to the station we could slide them into that postal box together for moral support. That way no one will fell like a fool on their own. What do you say G Callen."
"Hell why not, it's not like I have anything better to do."
Jane smiled and in her eye was a hint of a challenge. "OK we have a deal. This says we have until the fourteenth to get the application in, less a few days grace in case of slow postal delivery, so think you will have it written by the tenth?"
"The tenth, yeah, the tenth is fine," said Callen, he could do this. It was just a job application for a job he wasn't going to get. It was nothing new, he had written lots of job applications in his time. It was no use thinking about an interview he wasn't going to get.
"The winner buys the looser a drink," she said. "You need a lift home Callen?"
"No, I'm good." He could feel the hope expand in his chest but in his life, hope was a dangerous thing. It was just an application which would go nowhere, he could cope with that. Starsky and Hutch, Crockett and Tubbs, just trash talk by teenage kids from long ago. It meant nothing. Callen turned right and started walking.