Prologue
Los Angeles, 1997. The city is the midst of an unprecedented wave of crime and heat. Even with nearly every window open and every fan and AC unit running on full blast, the officers, perps, witnesses and multiple other people in the Central LA police station. Two older detectives, Mike Harrigan and Danny Archuleta, are pacing around in an office, both deep in thought. The two have come back from a raid where many of their perps were found skinned and hanging from the ceilings by their feet. "Alright, Danny boy", begins Harrigan. "What do we got?" "What do we got?" repeats Archuleta. "Five lowlife Scorpions make it into the building. The next minute, they're all shish kabob. Not one bullet wound. It wasn't drugs or money; there's a shitload of that. Maybe King Willie brought in some outside talent." Mike Harrigan sits down in his chair behind his desk and puts his feet up. He decides that sitting down would be a nice relaxing change of pace after all the shit that has gone on in the city for the last few months.
Danny continues rambling. "He's making his big move. A pro would have split the moment he heard us. More than one, we would have seen them. Whoever did this waited until the last minute, and then took out four men armed with machine guns by hand! And then got by us!" Mike scoffs in disbelief. What his partner has just described is near impossible for any human to accomplish in such short time with such brutality that they witnessed in the aftermath. "Maybe we should get him a job. Let's put him on the payroll", quips Danny. Mike scoffs for perhaps a single seconds before he looks off into space, deep in thought. "Huh…" "What?" asks Danny. "Hm? Oh, nothin'" Mike reassures Danny. "Give him a job and put him on the payroll. Ha! Now that's a thought!" The two laugh and Mike gives Danny a high-five. "Put him on the payroll. I like that!"