The table was long and usually filled up to capacity with bodies. Tonight it was only three men and one woman. It might seem odds were stacked against her; the testosterone levels outmatched her in every way, but Cara was tenacious and nothing if not adaptable. She played with all the big dogs just fine. There was a moment of silence as everyone present settled in their seats and waited for the boss in the room to start it off. Ryan Bishop sat at the head of the table, Cara Mason and Jason Kromer to his left side down the length of the table, and Pete Hannigan to his right side. Every face in the room, which appeared to be an open floor plan with a board with multiple slides that served as an investigation and lead posting site, was some degree of severity on pulsing facial muscles. The board was already beginning to be filled up with the known variables. By definition itself, the word used in that way wasn't meant to be reassuring. Variables always were more complex than what they seemed, after all.

"Everyone should have their briefing documents." It wasn't a question. Ryan was notorious for that tone. Without further delay all four of them opened the manila folders before them on the scarred, burned, ancient table. "On page one you'll find all the case information from the first Hammerhead case, the one we closed – or at least we thought we did. Turn to page two and you'll all see your immediate directives pertaining to the new case. Because they pay me to act, not to be witty, this case is codename Hammerhead 2.0. Officially…unofficially we'll stick with the initial title. Less confusion…" He swallowed, taking a sip of his black coffee before clearing his throat and continuing. "Page three will find for you any and all contacts outside the Division that you might need. These contacts are not to be contacted unless we've met with desperation. Local contacts were all burned or paid off our last time out. The last thing we need is more of that." He was looking at his own file for a moment before he looked up and caught Cara's eyes. "Not to mention this…Detective Loki is fit to be a problem, even now when I've made it clear where the ball is in terms of court… He's like a pit bull with his lock-jaw on this case, any case."

Cara's lips pulled tight. "Well, he might be a pain in the ass but nobody beats me in the field. Even if he gets a whiff of the plan, we're good. He arrests me ever, we're still good. I don't break, remember?"

Pete and Jay exchanged glances. Peter replied. "Excuse my arrogance or ignorance or whatever but isn't that still a detriment to our job? The local cops shouldn't know shit. They certainly shouldn't know enough about Hammerhead to be arresting our inside man…'er, woman."

Ryan must have agreed but he didn't say as much aloud. He stared across from him, down the length of the table, his eyes having that faraway look. While he was deep in thought, Cara scoffed. "If this detective is that fucking good to arrest me, to even smell there's a bigger case here; then, I'm hedging my bets that he's not giving this up. He's already got his teeth in it. So, why don't we just follow up? I mean, if he's got the knack for this, let's use him. Right…?"

"Wrong." Ryan finally spoke. "He's a hot-shot detective but he's got a hot temper. We already have one loose cannon running around here; I don't need another one."

"Oh, whatever do you mean…?" Cara's tone was faux confusion with a derisive smile and similar laugh that said he could suck her dick…if she had one. And on top of that look he gave her at the pit bull comment, too…

"I mean, Cara, that if you get yourself killed, caught, or arrested, I will have no recourse but to read some of the locals in and then we'll see how quickly your cavalier attitude will be to show its smug face. The tighter we keep this the better. I want shenanigans kept to a minimum. If you think about showing off, don't. It's in everyone's best interests if we stick to the dossier and our responsibilities. Now, check your disagreeable fucking attitude before I am forced to check it for you. Get. To. Work."

He didn't say anymore and he didn't have to. They all had their assignments; they all knew their jobs and they all knew their lives – and a Hell of a lot of innocent lives – were at risk if they didn't finish this. When the silence felt too heavy they all got up and made their way out. Cara was quicker on her long lithe dancer's legs, that could also be considered deadly weapons. Jason had to sprint to catch up to her.

"Hey, Distemper, wait up!"

The nickname said it all. Cara had been in a bad place all her life and growing up with all that she had, well, that just didn't help. Her nickname was due to an affliction but it wasn't to be confused with the viral canine definition of the word. "Don't fucking call me that." As if she could prove its use as accurately as that in any other way. "What do you want, Jay? Don't try to stop me."

"Jesus, I wasn't going to stop you. I just want you to know, as per usual…I got your back, babe."

His sincerity was obvious and to be frank, he'd never not had her back before. That was not only why they worked well together but also had a successful casual sex thing going on; not for a while now, but there it was.

Her heart almost thawed…almost. Her retort certainly faltered for a moment. "I've got it handled." It was short, curt, to the point.

"Yeah…" Jason commented, a smirk taking his mouth, his eyes knowing, eyebrows tipped up by the incredulity. "Famous last words, right? It's a good thing nobody here just trusts you when you say that shit."

Cara didn't answer back. Normally, she would have or she would have tackled him to the ground and pulverized him; but, now wasn't the time. This was the most personal a case had ever gotten for her; like Detective Loki – and unbeknownst to Cara, as yet – they both took to this case and personalized it because of something they'd seen in the victims, in the waste, that they recognized in themselves. She raised her right arm, waving goodbye at him nonchalantly, the tattoo on the inside of her right forearm – a tattoo depicting the Egyptian god Anubis surrounded by a block of hieroglyphs, something she'd taken off of a funereal scroll in one of her many books; books she'd accumulated over most of her travels – flashing him a certain god-like smugness.

Jason kept smirking until long after she'd gone. "Oh yeah, this one is gonna kill me yet…" He chuckles. "Not that I'm not gonna enjoy it!"

Across town in a dark blue sedan, department issued, Loki sat in the driver's side, beanie cap pulled low, toothpick sticking out from between his lips the way his cigarettes used to. Hell, he still smoked sometimes! It was a small price to pay in the vice department; not at all like what he'd used to find enjoyable in the past… He guess that was why he was out here right now, parked about a half block down from a known dealer hot-spot. If he could catch one of the stupid kids selling he might be able to find out more about this shit that's been killing more of the juveniles in the neighborhood. Of course, he had to catch the right stupid kid; most kids that had been dealing more than a couple months were hardened to cop busts and couldn't be hustled. So, that left the detective to find one of the newbies…

It took hours of his time – let it never be said this vocation didn't require patience at the very least – but blue eyes finally set upon Jose Miguel. The delinquent wasn't older than fourteen and wasn't much of an actual delinquent…yet. Loki snatched his beanie off, tossed it on the passenger seat and got out of the car, all in one fluid move; he took the toothpick out and threw it on the macadam next to the curb as Jose came around the corner.

"Shit, man…you know that's littering, dog!? I should make a citizen's arrest on you, bro!"

David looked like he was really working his way up to worrying about that. Incredulous about covered it… "Stop throwing all those ridiculous pronouns, synonyms, words that are not what I am to you, at me. I'm not your bro, your dog, and despite being a man in the gender sense, I'm not your man. Anyways your Grandma would turn over in her grave if I let you get away with that language! Shit's a real travesty!"

"A what!?"

"Precisely, you little shit! Someone needs more school and less time here logging dope credits for county."

"I'd only make juvie, man – 'er, sir."

Loki looked expectant. "That's what I thought. And not for long, you keep pulling this shit, Jose… Let's get you a donut and we can chat."

"Hell, no, man." The kid didn't correct himself then. "I'm on this corner 'til six! I move and I'm on the short list for the short bus schools. You feel me?"

Rapid blinking began as he passed a hand over his face, masking a grimace and a sigh. "Yeah, I got it. How about this; you get done at six and wrap up your shit. Go home and relax. At ten to eight, you meet me at Sydney's for a Danish, something. Okay? I need to run something past you."

"Fair enough, my homie; now kindly go fuck off so I can log my time."

"Yeah…don't sell shit; I'm watching you."

It took four hours, give or take, before Jose came down the street, around the corner and walking into Sydney's like he'd loaded his home-boy pants. Loki had watched him the whole time and he never made a sale; if that was by design or because he'd been seen talking to a cop earlier, David really couldn't be sure. Even if he had, the detective probably wouldn't have arrested him as he'd previously threatened; the good man he'd become saw the same broken down hopeless teen he'd used to be in Jose now. It was something he pitied, something the man wanted to change in the kid and nurture him in the same way others had nurtured Loki's talents and strengths before. Turn them into something positive…

"Pull your pants up before you sit down at this table." David didn't even look up. He set his coffee back down after taking a swig and washing down the cream cheese Danish he'd just consumed. "I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit here…" He paused, blinking a couple of times. "With a kid that looks like he loaded his pants… I can see your Fruit of the Loom. No one needs to see that."

Jose Miguel smirked smugly. "The girls dig it."

"Do I look like the fairer sex to you?" More blinking… "They just wanna see your jollies, and by law, you're still jail bait. Put it away and pull them up, Pants-on-the-Ground."

"You're just jealous."

"Yeah…that's it." Loki pursed his lips. Rolling his eyes wasn't his style but he was doing it in his mind's eye. This kid was definitely him in his youth. All mouth, brawn, and brains in spades; too bad he didn't know that he didn't know it all. That kind of wisdom came to David much later, after years of trials and hard knocks. Hopefully this kid was smarter than he'd been. "My questions are about your business model. Your boss, the hierarchy in the system; do you have access to any of that information?"

Jose sat across from Loki in the booth and shrugged limply. "I don't have access to anything big-time. I'm strictly need-to-know. And all I know right now is; I don't need to know."

"You're worried they'll punish you if they even suspect you helped me in any way."

"Punish me!? Hell no, Copper! They finger me for helping you and they take me out of circulation; I went and expired. You feel me? My life expectancy just flat-lined."

David's blinking was maddening; he was stressed on the case and worried about the kid. It made sense but it unnerved him anyway.

Jose gestured at his own eyes when he addressed the detective again. "Hey, you know, not to be rude but…man, they got shit for that now. Like, you know Tourette's meds or something…"

"For what?" David knew what the kid was on about but decided to play the ignorant card.

"Your eyes, man! Ain't nobody making fun of you if you fix the problem."

"Nobody's making fun of me. No one usually mentions it."

"Oh…"

"Why? Does it bother you? The fact I have a facial tic…?" Loki's lip curled up just a bit, as if to display distaste.

"Oh, no! Shit, man, I ain't bothered by nothing!" The teen was of Latin heritage, which was an unfortunate truth along the streets of any community. In this case, his heritage afforded Jose with a propensity for being quick-witted and a will to learn while the culture of the streets told him he wouldn't see college and he'd probably drop out of high school.

"Good, so we can still be friends." It wasn't said as a question.

"Goddamn! Why you gotta do this to me, man? Huh? You're making me worried. I'm afraid for my life, Cabron!"

"I won't pull up on your street anymore, okay? But…users are dying from ODs fast, Jose and I need to find out why, so… Anything goes down that's new or anything fishy comes across to you, you call me, yeah? Find a way to call me."

"Yeah… Guess I could do that… Shit…"

Ѫ

A month.

That's how long it took to make in-roads into a well-oiled drug running, cartel run ring.

Under the best of times, it took longer. These weren't nearly the best of times. And anyway, perfectly crafted backgrounds and false identities that could pass muster were for pussies… Cara Mason was no motherfucking pussy!

"I like cats, don't get me wrong." She sat on the stoop of her apartment complex, cigarette lit, talking to herself as she sometimes did to pass the monotony. Well, almost…talking to herself…

The old man that sat on the bench beside the wrought iron gates looked up with a look of absolute stupor on his face. "Wha-…?" There was a pause where the old man looked super lost, more lost than usual. "Cats? I've never liked cats. Don't bring cats here! Poison!" He was currently waving his arms around as if to prove his point somehow.

"Wow…" Cara side-eyed the elder. "Uh, poisoning animals is not kosher dude."

"Kosher! How did you know I'm a Jew!?"

Instead of replying Cara stuck her cigarette between her plump berry stained lips and took a deep drag off of it. Originally she'd come out here to think but as soon as she'd stepped out into the light, a strange car parked across the street and a block down caught her trained eye. It was a dark sedan with no other markings or anything. In this neighborhood no one could leave their vehicle for long without getting it lifted or painted in exciting new ways, so; it had to be a cop car. She'd been discreetly watching since then but no movement inside or out as yet. The most she could say for herself was that she knew someone was in the car, which meant they were more interested in watching than acting; that was good for her. It meant he didn't have shit on her to act on. It was also the first time she'd seen the car, which meant whatever lead he had on her involvement was new and weak. It was likely that her new friend was their local PD, Detective Loki. Well, wasn't he full of piss and vinegar!? After all, according to her boss he was directed to cease and desist with the rest of his department… Interesting. Maybe it was about time he got to meet his replacement on the case. Maybe it was about time she went over and said hello…

A few weeks ago, if someone had told him another three people would overdose and he'd be only one lead away from hanging it up, David Loki would have said that someone needed a serious attitude adjustment. Either that or to get their face rearranged… Sadly, however, that lie was now a glaring reality for him. Every day he felt more lost than the last. Until that call came in…

It was Wednesday and he sure needed to get over the hump of this week. Little pad of notebook paper in hand, Detective Loki stood beside the metal table in the Coroner's office, the morgue, waiting for Florence to come in and give her report. The body on the table was their latest victim; another girl, by the look of her she was no more than thirteen or fourteen. It was getting to him, all these deaths and these poor kids who wouldn't even have a life thanks to some unscrupulous, evil, heartless person who pushed drugs on kids and their suppliers who pushed drugs into this country. It was a waste, all of it. More so, it was a waste to lose those adolescents and what they could have been in this world if they had lived, if they hadn't made a mistake like that.

"I'd ask what you're thinking about…" Flo broke into the detective's reverie. She could tell when he started blinking repeatedly and swallowed awkwardly, eyes shifting in their sockets as his mouth formed something akin to a half-hearted albeit wordless apology. Flo smiled back. The expression was much more genuine, softer and caring. "But then asking what's not on your mind is probably a shorter list…"

He smirked like that was a good one, but his heart wasn't in that look either. "You got me. This case had got me all tied up in knots. It's even worse than those missing girls last year." He pauses, looking down at the young girl as Florence uncovers her to the clavicles. She's so cold now. She's so alone. Her eyes shouldn't be closed, damnit! "This shouldn't be happening!" Loki got visibly angry from virtually nothing, nothing anyone could measure.

"You're right. It shouldn't."

"I should have solved this already!" David gesticulated wildly. "I should have saved lives! I should have… She'd be alive now." He was less distraught and angry and more sickened by sadness. All the fire was leaving him.

"Stop that right now! You don't know that. You can't know that. You're doing all you can with what you have. So, drop the pity party and let me and young Alyssa here tell you more. She wants justice, David. She deserves it and you can get it for her. She knows you can get it for her because I told her, as I counted the one and only puncture wound on her arm, that you could. And she told me she wants justice for everyone else this has touched, too."

David's tic kept his eyes and eyelids busy even as his mouth clamped tightly shut. He didn't have a good response. All this time he'd claimed to be doing this for the victims and their families but it was much more personal than that. He fought his own substance abuse issues in the past, demons he'd survived…barely, to get to where he was now. The same demons took friends that, at the same time in his life, meant everything to him and literally took their lives. And now it was back…

"Of course, you're right."

"Of course I am!" Florence narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"Meet Alyssa, through your good eyes." The word 'good' when used that way meant more than eyes that saw well. "Then I'm beating the streets until I have more to go on. No time to lose hope when you've got people depending on you."

Flo smiled wider now. "I think now we understand one another, sir."

The report was the same as the last. They were all the same. Some had been users for a long time, shooting up with too much, thinking they had reached a certain tolerance. Most were new users like these adolescents. Neither party could know how much to administer because the drugs they used were different than usual. Just how, David couldn't say. This was on his mind when his cell rang in the breast pocket of his dress shirt. He had an old flip phone, one that didn't take up much room. And that was a good thing since he spent most of his time trying to remove the unnecessary from his days and the clutter from his life. He walked out of the morgue with an easy but purposed gait, answering on ring number three. "Yeah…? Detective Loki speaking…"

"You know you shouldn't answer phones like that 'less you're at work right? What happens, somebody's got your snitch's phone trying to find out if they a snitch!? You over there: Detective Loki speaking, and I'm deep six invested for sure!"

"Hello, Jose. Good to hear your voice, too."

Jose Miguel scoffed derisively and interrupted him. "Hell! You got a jacked up sense of what's nice, don't you? Shit… Man, I'm pissing myself over here. Do you want what I got or not? You told me to call if something occurred to me."

"I thought for a moment you only called to complain." Loki finally replied, blinking a few times, trying not to smile.

"You're really funny. Didn't your mom ever tell you not to be a smartass in the face of someone else's turmoil?"

"I never actually knew my mother…so no."

"Damn, sorry bro…"

"It's alright; you didn't know." David was at his best with children. He rarely got angry enough at them to even raise his voice! His facial tic remained, a testament to his nerves, his anxiousness and his internal threshold for stress. Kids weren't like adults; they didn't say things with every intention of rubbing salt in a wound. "So, what do you have for me?"

"It'll be like Christmas for you, man. There's a hot chick and everything!"

Fast forward a number of hours and Loki had his sedan parked across the street and down the block from where he'd been told to look for answers. Jose had said there was a new shot-caller in town, a woman. He didn't know much more than that but he had said she looked foreign and way too pretty to be an addict or a local gang or drug affiliate. Now that Loki was on site, now that he saw her first-hand; he was sure Jose was right about one thing: she wasn't local. If she had been, he or someone he worked with would have arrested her at least once before. And her face wasn't one Loki would forget; not for any reason other than she was strikingly beautiful. Hell, if she wasn't a criminal she might have been his type. Small and – probably – vicious. He barely stifled a laugh. "Probably likes it rough, too…" His eyes widened infinitesimally when the words actually came out of his mouth. That wasn't why he was here. He shouldn't be losing his focus! His eyes blinked rapidly as he watched her on the stoop with what appeared to be a homeless man not far away. She stood abruptly, her eyes finally, noticeably set on his unmarked unit. "Fuck!" He swore low as she moved down off the stoop. "Shit!" Did he sit there or did he flee the scene? One gear shift and a quick jerk on the wheel and he was gone…

Cara stepped off the stoop, her eyes now staring down the unmarked and the not-so-mystery occupant. Every word of warning Ryan said to her was kicking around in her head. 'Don't involve him, Car. Don't you do it!' Her inner self, the part that was smart, screamed at her to follow procedure to the letter. The other part of her, the part that acted more than it spoke, was urging her to close this case for once and for all…by any means necessary. This detective, he was supposed to be good, right? Closed and solved every case he'd ever been given, right…? He would be an asset, not an added problem. If he was anything like Cara, then both of them could combine their ferocity, their tenacity, and put an end to these assholes for good.

One hand on the gear shift, the other on the wheel; his right foot went from barely rested on the ignition peddle to fully depressing the brake. The woman stopped, her steps halted but her eyes; those blue grey orbs that he could see from there – and rather than unsettling him, those same eyes made him feel fully alive; which was unsettling in itself – bore icily through his tinted glass at him, as though she could see him. He was now no closer to deciding what to do than he had been minutes ago… He could tell this would be a lead he would never get again; if he screwed this up, he was on his own, pissing in the wind…

Even Jason's warnings meant very little at that moment. The brunette agent could feel the detective's presence there, as though she knew he was staring back at her just as assuredly as she was staring at him through the glass, the tinted glass, really. She could just as likely be staring at a Bob Newhart look-a-like in a cheap suit; she didn't know. "Come on…" Cara murmured, barely moving her lips at all.

The wheels turned in his head. She was right there! But, she wasn't doing anything illegal! If he brought her in, if he picked her up; how would he explain it?

How would she explain it? Some pretty crazy ideas were taking a hold of her right now. Getting arrested was the last thing on her boss's list for her to do; it should have been last on hers…

The air in the street was heavy with early afternoon emissions; it was only fitting that neither of them could breathe as they waited. She smiled. It was a genuine expression that used all the necessary muscles and bore her teeth. She was unsettling. Why had she done that? The air between the two of them seemed to charge, even as she backed away. Minutes later she disappeared from view but David knew he'd see her again.

Inside the apartment, Cara lit a cigarette and called a number from her burner phone. When the call connected she let out the long drag she'd been holding. "We need to talk." Her tone was clipped. "Their little puissant shit-heel with the boys' home sob story just showed up outside my place. What, are we sharing the rent now? Yeah, because to my understanding, he just took up residence in our collective assholes! Isn't it your job to make sure this shit doesn't happen!?"