Fallout

Chapter 22

Nolan lunges from his seat in roll call as Grey makes a solemn announcement. "A bomb went off in Councilman Gutierrez's car."

"Is she all right?" John demands.

Grey nods. "She's OK, Officer Nolan. She wasn't in the car. She started it remotely and then went to check on one of her kids before leaving. The car is totaled, and windows shattered up and down the block, but no one was hurt."

Nolan sinks back in his chair. "Thank God! Was there any evidence of who set off the bomb?"

"More like a signature," Grey replies. "Someone left a pair of yellow sneakers on the councilwoman's porch."

"The cartel," Nolan realizes. "Abril Rojas must be behind the bombing."

"Carradine is proceeding on that assumption," Grey confirms, "as are the DEA and the FBI. And we have a detail on Gutierrez and her family. But we also have the rest of the division to protect. The cartel may be further ramping up activity, with the resulting rise in drug sales – and overdoses. Rojas may also be expanding her gaming dens."

"Councilman Gutierrez has been working on shutting those down, Sir," Nolan notes. "She wanted to zone them out of business."

"She hasn't succeeded yet," Grey points out, "And I don't know if she'll be willing to proceed with that. I'm told she's worried about the safety of her family. But right now, it's up to us to worry about the safety of this city. So, regular patrols unless notified otherwise. Chen, you're with Nolan."

"Hey Nolan, Councilwoman Gutierrez is all right," Lucy soothes as he slams his gear into the back of their shop.

John bangs the hatch. "It was my fault. After the stink bomb at the school, I was the one who went to her with the justification for a zoning change. If I hadn't, the cartel wouldn't have gone after her."

"You don't know that, John. She's a very bright woman. She might have come up with it on her own. Or it might not be the cartel."

"What are you talking about? The sneakers are practically a uniform."

"But they're not the only ones who could buy a pair. I've seen them on Sneaker Central. Maybe someone wanted to go after her and put the blame on the cartel."

"Someone like the group that's against shifting some of the police funding to mental health teams? That would be my fault too, Lucy."

"No, it wouldn't, John. Some asshole decided to put a bomb in a car. You didn't make them do it. What is it with guys – you and Tim? You think everything that happens is about you."

"And where is Bradford?" Nolan asks. "How come you're not riding with him?"

"He's with Commander West again. He wouldn't tell me what they're up to. Tim claimed it was need to know, and I didn't need to know. But I'm his aide," Lucy adds sullenly. "I'm supposed to know everything."

"Welcome to the world of the clueless, usually inhabited by the male."

Lucy climbs behind the wheel. "Let's just get on the road."

Sighing, Tim slumps in his chair. "You're sure the leak is in this division?"

"I'm sure," Percy West insists. "We've been tracking messages in and out. They're from a burner phone, but they always originate and terminate here. And they come in and go out during day shift patrol hours."

Tim smacks his palm on the conference table. "Cops are in and out of here all day. They bring suspects in for processing. It could be anyone."

"We can check on all that, see exactly who was and wasn't here," West returns. "We'll narrow it down until we're sure. But until then, we sit on it."

"Yes, Sir, but the longer we wait, the more intelligence the cartel receives – and acts on."

West blows out a deep breath. "Yes, Sergeant, I know."

Slipping out to his trailer behind the division, Smitty finds it occupied. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Guatemala."

"There are matters here that demand my attention," Abril Rojas declares.

"Here? Where you're surrounded by the LAPD?"

"Which has no idea it should be looking for me. The cops all think I'm in Guatemala, even my old friend Angela Lopez. And I checked. There are no cameras around your trailer. But isn't that why you put it here? Who would suspect trouble in their backyard?"

Smitty drags his arm across his forehead. "Still, someone could see you. And there's no reason for you to be here. I'm sending out my messages."

"Yes, you are," Abril acknowledges. "The problem is that the LAPD is aware that the transmissions are coming from," Abril gestures toward the division, "that building. They probably already suspect that it's you, which makes the cartel vulnerable."

"No one suspects me," Smitty protests, failing to disguise the tremor in his voice as Abril caresses the handle of the knife on her belt. "But if anything happens to me, they'll look into every second of my life. That will lead them to the cartel, to you."

The corner of Abril's lip curls as she smiles. "I'm not going to hurt you, Quigley. As you said, that would cause a bigger problem than it would solve. And you still can be of use. But we will need another method of passing information. Tell me, do you like video games?"

"I don't play them. And I've already informed you," he argues, "that the LAPD knows about your gaming dens."

"Ah, we're already taking care of that little problem. But you won't be going to a den. I have a very special game for you and very special comrades with whom you will play. Your moves will tell us what we need to know."

"I'm not good with that kind of thing," Smitty claims, crossing his hands in front of his face. "Isn't there another way?"

"You will learn, and you will play," Abril reiterates. "Or there are worse things than death. Would you like to find out what they are?"

Smitty sinks onto his bed. "No, I'll learn the game."

When Lucy pulls in near the tables at the division's favorite food truck, John's surprised to see Henry. "What brings you here? I thought you were hard at work on your mission for Ben."

"Oh, I am. I have a meeting with a group of visiting students at UCLA in an hour. But I thought I'd try to catch you. Abigail and I were thinking Saturday night for the party if you're not on shift."

Nolan glances at Lucy. "Did you get a look at Bradford's scheduling?"

"I do most of Bradford's scheduling," she informs him.

"So, am I on shift for Saturday night?"

"You're working normal hours until seven – unless something comes up. But you're not in the first group to get the emergency call. Five cops turned in reports Tim considered imprecise this week. So he'd punish them first."

John turns to Henry. "Then I guess we're on. Anything you need me to do?"

"Just be at your house. Abigail already put her head together with Bailey about the details." Henry turns toward Lucy. "You'll be there, right? And Abigail and I will be calling Angela and Nyla and the rest of the Guatemala gang."

"You're inviting Tim Bradford?" Lucy questions.

"And a date if he wants to bring one. And you can bring a date too," Henry adds.

"I'll see if Chris is busy," Lucy responds. "But last time he and I and Tim and Ashley were at the same table, it didn't work out that well."

"You got Chris out of it," John reminds her.

"Yeah," Lucy agrees slowly. "I did."