A/N: Just trying out a new genre. See if you like it. Johnny White and his gang has taken over the United Kingdom. Emily and Freddie are officers in a Special Crimes Unit on the hunt for him. Naomi is a journalist found during a drug bust gone awry but it turns out she may just be able to help them find what they're actually looking for. Will she prove helpful or just become another distraction?

"Today's going to be the day," a determined voice whispered over the walkie-talkies velcroed to their shoulders. "Hope so," responded another, sounding slightly nervous. "I fuckin' hate White," returned a more confident feminine voice in disgust. The shadows followed the voices, marching into the greater shadows of boarded-up urban buildings. It was definitely not the prime destination for a Saturday picnic with the children. The Special Crimes Unit surrounded the anciently abandoned warehouse. No longer was the warehouse abandoned; it became the perfect location for the one of the many drug-manufacturing bases of the greatest drug lord in all of the United Kingdom. They had received the location as tip off from one of their most reliable resources, which had anonymously given them the location of four gang members in the past.

"Everyone in position?" called the Commander of the drug bust. Quickly, they all responded from their scattered placements; "Unit One in position;" "Unit Two in position;" "Unit Three in position;" "Unit Four in position with suspected movement ahead, no confirmation from checkpoint."

"Unit Four, objective: detain subject. All other units, objective: approach with caution and enter the warehouse. Proceed with Plan A. Permission to use force as deemed necessary by the individual." The five members of Unit Four stealthily crept against the wall of a building until they were hidden behind an industrial-sized dumpster. "Fuck, this smells worse than a you after a workout routine," one whispered. "Shut up, Freddie," hushed the woman that he was presumably directing his comment toward. "James, status of area?" she asked. "Single figure is smoking unknown substance against the northern wall. Potentially armed. Minimal lighting. Potential for figure to escape down the alley or retreat inside, six meters from the entryway, and alert others." "Fuck, that's risky." The woman surveyed their area as her eyes better adjusted to the darkness. "James approach subject from northern alley in five minutes. Go." He immediately left to circle the building and approach from the other side. "Freddie, take oversight." He climbed the ladder to their right that scaled the side of the building and set up his position directly above the target. He could see James turning the corner and waiting for his count on the other side. "Michael, Sarah, back me up." They waited slowly until their clocks hit the five-minute mark. Simultaneously, they knew the rest of the Units would be entering the building and all chaos would ensue if there were defense. It was well known that Johnny White's men did not back down without a fight, having won several in the past through severely underestimated situations. Unit Four's mission was to detain at least one person for questioning. The woman spoke into her walkie-talkie, "James, go. Freddie, keep your eyes on the subject in case it runs. Michael, Sarah, let's go."

They were twenty meters from their subject and the black of their uniforms would only remain hidden in the shadows for another fifteen meters. They would have to run the final five, entirely exposed, to complete the takedown, assuming the gravel beneath their feet did not give away their position beforehand. As they moved closer they noted the subject was female; blonde, shoulder-length hair; smoking a fag; no weapon in sight. Had they not been on the location of a significant drug bust they would have no reason to rush and tackle her. The Unit Leader made a quick decision, knowing shock would be her best weapon if the subject was indeed armed, and full-speed wrestled the shocked figure to the ground. She quickly retrieved her gun from her hip and directed it to the subject's head. "Be quiet." Silence was the most important thing until she heard from the rest of the units what was going on inside. It was surprisingly quiet for a drug bust.

The straddled figure did nothing to contest the hold she was in. Her eyes were widened in fear, but an innocent fear that the Captain immediately recognized. An uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach. She saw a tear drip down the girl's face and sighed. Another case of wrong place, wrong time, it seemed. "Unit Four to Commander, status?"

"Commander to all Units, operation inconclusive. Warehouse seems to have been evacuated. Either someone tipped them off or resource was misinformed." There was a brief pause, "Commander to Unit Four Captain, has the subject been detained?" "Affirmative, Sir. Subject does not appear to be armed." "Detain subject for questioning. Mirandize them." All the Unit Four members gathered as the woman sat up. She lifted the girl off the ground and listed her Miranda rights as she cuffed her. The Unit Four Captain then concluded, "Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?"

"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK IS GOING ON?" The woman shouted, swinging her shoulders as if that would loosen the handcuffs. She had shown no hostility when they tackled her but now it was as if they unleashed a wild beast by allowing her to stand up. Two of the units grabbed her by the arms to prevent her from running, however, she just started kicking and flopping around. They were forced to drag her forward with them toward the rest of the units.

"Do you understand your rights, ma'am?"

"YES, BUT THIS IS FUCKING PREPOSTEROUS! I WAS SMOKING A CIGARRETE! YOU CAN'T ARREST ME! I'VE DONE NOTHING WRONG! FUCKING UNCUFF ME, NOW! THIS IS A DISGRACE TO THE POLICE AND A PUBLIC INJUSTICE!" Her blonde locks were flying into her face as she tried to violently shake. But she was no match for the muscled officers.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but you were caught on the site of a major drug bust. You are going to have to answer a few questions before we can consider releasing you," The Captain said monotone to disguise her pity. "I want to call my mum," she cried. "I'm sorry, we can arrange that at the station." she felt really bad. This girl definitely had nothing to do with the drug bust and was just going to be a victim of standard procedure. As they were putting her in the car she shrieked irregularly. "YOU FUCKING BROKE MY RIBS!" An officer rushed to her and gently pressed against the detainee's side with two fingers. "Yes, there's a fracture. Take the suspect to the hospital, now. Be gentle, officers... we don't need an aggression case on our hands."

"Fucking hell." The Unit Four Captain cursed under her breath. She figured the tackle against the gravel must have been rough. The aftermath of a tackle can be a lot worse when it's unexpected. The officers were all trained to relax their muscles before any oncoming force so as to decrease any damage.

"Sounds like you did a good job on her, Ems," Freddie chuckled, walking toward her police motorbike. "It's Captain to you, Officer Frederick." She smirked. The formality of titles between them were insignificant to either of them, but it was important for him not to give the impression of disrespect in front of the other officers. Respect was a primary foundation for trust, and trust was a matter of life and death in the police business. Not to mention, her partner hated when his name was said entirely. Emily could not resist making a counter jab. "Ready to see the Commissioner?" "He's going to be pissed about this." "He'll be pissed one way or another," Emily commented, referring to their boss's almost constant inebriation. "Alright then," Freddie laughed and pat the seat of her vehicle. "See you there."

A/N: Let me know what you thought! :)