Chapter 4

I walked into the Los Angeles Police Department building. Today was my first day and I'm already excited. Since I don't have school anymore, I attended my shift from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m., right around the time I start my other job at Rocque Records. As I walked around to find the chief's office, my colleagues passed similar style clothes as me.

I wore a black long-sleeved shirt with similar dark trousers. From my torso, I wore a sewn badge on my shoulder and the metal duplicate on my left peck, where one of my pockets is. I had a belt that wrapped around my pants, which also held my taser and gun holster, along with a pair of handcuffs and radio. I don't know what it's about this uniform but it makes me feel good and powerful.

Soon enough, I found Chief Castline's office. I gently knocked on the door before I entered with permission. The chief sat at his mahogany desk, to his right was a simple computer while the rest laid little decorations. The room was simple but one wall mounted various awards addressed in Castline's name. Speaking of, the chief looked at me and gestured to the seat in front of him. I closed the door and accepted the offer to sit.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Officer Garcia," Chief Castline smiled. Oh, I like that name. Officer Garcia. The chief was exactly how I imagined he would look. He had similar clothes as me, though his shirt was white and had many more badges on it. We shook hands before getting down to business. "So, would you like to explain to me what our call was about two days ago?"

"Well, I understand what happened with the Garcia family, how they're a cartel that smuggles drugs and money across the border of Mexico to here in Los Angeles," I explained. "I also knew about the drug trade between the family and the Suckers a while back. I get that you have lost many people against them but now I could help your mission with intel I'm receiving from an informer. If we can gather enough information, we can predict the next drop so you can take a portion of the family without losing any more people."

The chief stayed quiet. His expression was blank but his eyes widened in slight surprise. I'm surprised too – I didn't think I could come up with this and figure it out on my own.

"I've heard that you've also managed to apprehend a member of the Suckers people, is that correct?" He suddenly asked. I slowly nodded.

"Yes, sir." He paused again.

"My men have been after that family for years and they keep slipping past our traps, going right under our noses. The Suckers are no better," Castline sighed. He then looked at me seriously. "If this informer of yours can help us eliminate both gangs once and for all, this would ease the criminal rates in the entire city."

"So I can help?" I straighten up in my seat.

"You'll be prompted into this division," he declared. "Tell me, does this informer have direct connections to either group?"

"Garcia family."

"Very well. You'll go undercover and pose as a member of the Garcia family and gain their trust. You'll report your findings to us," Castline ordered. I looked at him in shock. I have no experience in being a police officer, but now I have to risk my life in multiple ways to go undercover? This is insane. "Are you up for the job?"

"I-I… um, yes?" I frowned slightly. He didn't seem to notice or care, that I hesitated. He just waved me out of his office and soon enough I'm back in the BTR mobile. I sat there in the car as I tried to wrap my head around what just happened.

This is crazy! I can't just go undercover and act like I'm a part of the drug-dealing family of the one most dangerous criminals of Los Angeles. I can get killed! And what are the chances of them actually believing in me? I felt sweat form on my hands, feeling the panic slowly overwhelm my brain. I can't just die already! I have a lot to live for. My career, my family, my friends, my life. If I've never stopped that robber from stealing that money, I would have never been given a pamphlet to join the LAPD. If I threw away the pamphlet as I should have, Mrs. Knight would have never found it. If I wasn't alone on date night, I wouldn't have gone out of the apartment in the first place!

I slammed my fist into the steering wheel before letting out a string of curses. I finally settled down after a long moment. My heavy breathing and rapid beating heart rang in my ears.

"Why do I let my emotions take over me like this?" I whispered to no one in particular. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes but I quickly brushed them away, most likely leaving my eyes red. I heaved out a shaky sigh. I finally turned on the ignition and drove to Rocque Records.

When I arrived, I kept thinking about how I'm going to break it to my friends that the chances of dying now tripled. Being an undercover cop means that I have to lie through everything to gain someone's trust. But I'm not like that. I hate hurting people's feelings, I hate losing trust, and I hate putting others in danger.

What if I'm putting the guys, Mrs. Knight, Katie, and everyone at the Palm Woods in danger? The horrifying thought sent me into a small panic. If the family finds out that I'll double-cross them, my blood is going to splatter across the floor. And I'm going to be putting everyone else in harm's way. What if they use the guys as leverage against me? What if they get hurt because of me?

"Carlos?!" What if I get everyone killed? This whole thing will be my fault. Why did I call Chief Castline?! Why do I keep digging my own grave?

"Carlos, breathe!" That's it, I'm gonna die! I'm going to lay in a dark alleyway with a bullet to the head. If I don't die, I'm going to plan on everyone else's funerals. I'm going to bury my best friends six feet under, and I doubt that if I sell my soul that it'll bring them back.

"Listen to us!" I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. No, could it be them? How do they know me?! Maybe Butch escaped and told the Suckers what I look like, and the Garcias suddenly overheard? I swiftly pulled my pistol out of its holder on my belt as I whirled around to stare at my attackers. There are three of them – the tallest looked young and handsome, the second seemed dominant, the shortest looked nerdy – as they watched me in shock. Something about them… looks familiar.

Wait a second… Oh crap. I was aiming my gun at my three best friends.

Logan's P.O.V.

We heard loud mumbling in the lobby at Rocque Records. Kendall decided that we should investigate, thinking that it was important. He proved correct on a worrisome scale.

We spotted Carlos in the hallway of the lobby, leaning against the wall and continuously whispering to himself. I watched his face and I knew that look anywhere. He was having a panic attack.

"Carlos!" I exclaimed with the other two following behind me. Carlos looked extremely distressed about something, his eyes unfocused on something in front of him as he harshly bit his fingernails. We tried to get his attention multiple times but nothing seemed to work, he actually got even worse. Then it looked like he was choking.

"Carlos, breathe!" Kendall cried as he tried to keep the Latino up against the wall. His small pupils focused deep into nothingness. We need to get him to calm down before he passes out. James seemed to read my mind as he mimicked slow breathing exercises for Carlos to replicate.

"Listen to us," James whispered between breaths. Carlos' pupils seemed to grow and his senses began to pick up again. We thought it was over until his expression changed to panicked anger. Suddenly, Kendall has pushed away and Carlos took out his gun and pointed it at us.

"Carlos?" I fearfully looked at him as we all slowly backed up and held peaceful hands where he could see them. My usually bubbly friend wafted large breaths of air. It only took a few more torturous seconds until he recognized us. His eyes widened and he put his pistol down. No one spoke for a while, each of us staring the other down as he did the same. His face then reflected burning guilt.

"I-I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," he hurriedly apologized. We frowned at his answer. He would hurt someone else? But who?

"Who would you point a gun at?" Kendall seemed to voice my questions. Carlos too frowned, but in hesitation. "You know you can tell us anything, right?"

"Yeah," he sighed heavily. Finally, Carlos pocketed his weapon in its respective holder before looking at us with a professional stare. As I looked deeper into his eyes, I could clearly see that he was still afraid of something. "I need to talk to you, Gustavo, Kelly, and Mrs. Knight. This is important business that everyone needs to hear."

Kendall, James, and I shared a worried glance as we watched our friend walk away to the conference room. Something about him has changed and I'm sure that the others noticed too. But I have a feeling that it started when he disappeared a month ago on date night.

Soon enough, Mrs. Knight arrived when Kendall called her. Katie couldn't join this discussion, despite being in our family, since Carlos prohibited her from hearing. But we all knew her too well, she might overhear our conversation somehow, so we had Freight Train guard the door.

We all sat at a long table – on one side sat Gustavo, Kelly, Mrs. Knight, Kendall, James, and I while the other side only sat Carlos. He just sat there, leaning back in his chair in an almost intimidating way. His black uniform brought out his authority against us and he seemed satisfied with the position of power, while Gustavo seemed bugged about it. Carlos continually tapped his finger on the table, which made the only sound in the room.

Tap. Tap. Tap. It was slow and annoying.

Finally, Kendall was the first to make noise by clearing his throat and addressing our meeting. "So, what's so important that you needed to bring the rest of them here?" He gestured to his mom, the music producer, and assistant.

"As you all know, I began work today at my new job at the LAPD," he began. I continued to watch his finger tap at a consistent rate. Tap. Tap. Tap. "However, I've already been assigned to an undercover mission, so I was promoted to a new position."

"Congratulations," Mrs. Knight intervened to smile. Carlos forced one on but it only lasted a split second.

"The thing about going undercover is that I'm going to have to pose as a part of a group to infiltrate their organization and break them down from within," he continued.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Kelly raised an eyebrow.

"But that seems difficult for one amateur officer to take down," she cut in. "Why would they make you do this?"

His tapping became faster. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

"I have an informer who can supply my information to take down the family," Carlos answered roughly.

"'Family?'" James repeated. Carlos bit his lip, realizing that he messed up. He slipped past too much information.

Taptaptap. Taptaptap. Carlos heaved a sigh.

"I'm going undercover to dismantle the Garcia family," he simply stated. I felt myself sharply gasping, along with the other adults. James and Kendall seemed to be the only ones unsure about who the notorious family is. "If you don't know, the family is a Mexican cartel that smuggles drugs at different places. They are brutal and are extremely dangerous. Since I am the only one that has information to ruin the organization, I was approved to go undercover."

"Why are you telling us this?" I frowned. The tapping became more furious than ever. Taptaptap! Taptaptap! He then clenched his fist, finally ceasing the noise. Carlos took a deep breath and spoke.

"The reason why I told you my new position is so you can be aware of what I'm about to do," he began professionally. His tone and expression left no room for sympathy or any other emotions. "Because I will be putting myself in danger, anyone who is near me can be used against me. That's why I'm not going to be living in Palm Woods anymore. That's why I won't be coming to work at Rocque Records anymore…"

There was a tense pause.

"That's why I'm quitting Big Time Rush."

TBC...