Chapter Two: The Rundown
As soon as Detectives Dave Winslow and Pussy Lips slammed the door open with perps and trophy in hand, everyone in the 24th LAPD precinct erupted in applause and cheer in congratulations of their newly solved case. Even Pussy Lips hoisted his newly-earned spinal column in the air and roared a primal, ecstatic scream. After Dave put Shotgun and Back Right in the holding cell to await their processing, the two sat down at their desks. Across from their desks sat Detectives Jake Santiago and Terry Glover. The four exchanged fist bumps.
"Alright, well done, boys", lauded Santiago. "I see you got a new trophy there, PL", said Terry. "What does this one put you at this summer?" Pussy Lips answered him by putting three fingers up and casually snarled. "Ah, so this your turkey then! Very nice, PL!" Pussy Lips tilted his head to the side in confusion. "You know, a turkey? Like in bowling?", explained Santiago. Pussy Lips looked back at Dave and snarled in confusion. "It's a human sport with a big ball and pins, I'll take you sometime, you'd be good at it", Dave clarified. "Whoa whoa whoa, back up. You're telling me PL hasn't gone bowling yet?!", Glover asked in shock.
Before either of the two detectives could give them an answer, a middle-aged man, Chief Travis Boone walked out to the center of the precinct floor. "Could I have everyone's attention, please?", Travis boomed. The whole precinct went dead silent. "First and foremost, I'd like to congratulate Detectives Winslow and Pussy Lips for finally catching the Los Cabronos robbery team red-handed and finally put those sons of bitches behind bars!" The whole precinct applauds and even sporadically whoops and cheers. "HALF of them, chief!", a cocky police officer chimes in. Pussy Lips gets into a defensive position and snarls threateningly, putting the fresh-faced officer in his place.
"Now…", Bonne continued. "…these bastards were on a four month spree and they killed three civilians along the way. I think we should all be glad that half of them are behind bars and the other half of 'em won't be out on the streets in this lifetime or the next. Secondly, on a much more serious note, our local forces, even with the DEA's cooperation, have barely been able to put a dent in our city's coke epidemic and I need us all to be on the grindstone on this thing for the sake of our city and the fine people who live in it. While today can be a day of celebration, we can't let that distract us. Understood?" The whole precinct acknowledged this somber message with their silence. "Very good", Boone reports. "As you were."
As Boone heads back to his office, life in the precinct continues as it had. Dave sighs. "Well, that's a fuckin' drag, innit?" Pussy Lips lightly shrugs and nods this off with a quiet snarl. Suddenly, Dave's desk phone rang, which he picked up by the third ring. "This is LAPD Detective David Winslow speaking." "Dave, Pussy Lips, can I see you in my office, please?", asked the voice on the other end. It was Chief Boone's voice, which was confirmed when Dave looked back to see the Chief looking at him on the phone. "Will do, Chief", replied Dave before he hung up the phone. He turned to Pussy Lips and got up. "The Chief wants to see the two of us." Pussy Lips got up and snarled inquisitively. "I dunno why, he didn't say. Just make sure you're on your best behavior, alright?" Pussy Lips snarled and nodded understandingly as he too got up from his desk and joined Dave to the Chief's office.
Dave and Pussy Lips stood in front of Boone as he sat at his desk, the two detectives unsure where this meeting would take them. "Now, I'm sure the two of you had big plans to celebrate and go for a night on the town and that sort of thing, but I'm afraid this is a job that allows little-to-no breaks." A pause filled the office, the three lawmen glancing at one another. Finally, Boone interrupted the unknown silence. "We have a lead on the Águila Arpía Cartel's next coke shipment." The two detectives looked at their superior in surprise, as even Pussy Lips snarled his amazement at the revelation. The Águila Arpía Cartel was a joint Mexican-Columbian cocaine manufacturing and distribution cartel that had been slowly poisoning the streets of Los Angeles for the last five years. The Águila Arpía organization was both ruthless and nearly impossible to bring down, not even the DEA had been able to make any headway in bringing the cartel down since they moved stateside.
Boone got up from his seat and walked to a board that had a red yarn spider's web with photographs of places and suspects caught in the web that stretched over onto a map of Los Angeles that was also on the board. He pointed to a photo of a shipping yard on the southeast side of the Port of Los Angeles. "Now, we have reason to believe from various informants, undercover agents, and surveillance details that a shipment will be arriving for distribution at midnight tonight in shipping container coming in on the southeast side of the Port.", Boone reported to the two. "You remember the southeast side of the Port, right, Pussy Lips?", he asked as he looked directly at Pussy Lips. He responded with a snarl of acknowledgement and a slow, methodical nod. "Mm… Now, you boys will watch about a mile off over here at 2200 hours under standard surveillance protocol and wait for the drop-off to happen. When it does, you have my permission to engage. We'll have SWAT and several DEA agents going in with you when the shit hits the fan. But whatever you do…", Boone said as he once again looked directly at Pussy Lips. "NO KILLING. Understood?" Pussy Lips once again snarled and nodded understandingly. "Very good", Boone declared. "You're dismissed." Boone sat back down in his chair and nodded them out on their way.
The two detectives headed out, with their former celebratory mood turned into one of seriousness and even some uncertainty. There was no way of knowing how things would shake down tonight. One thing was for certain, though: it was guaranteed that shit was going to hit the fan one way or another.