Dylan watched woefully as his Oceanic was towed away, what was most annoying was the fact that Pulaski could plant carefully aimed shots in to a running man's legs but somehow manage to shoot out Dylan's tyres in the process. He was sitting in the front seat of Tenpenny's pricey but suave Buccaneer, watching, with a hint of glee as the commanding officer was taking part in a fairly heated argument with Pulaski, well Tenpenny was shouting and Pulaski was cowering. Even if Dylan had screwed his first day up, the twisted leather on his left shoe a grim reminder of this, at least he didn't lick Tenpenny's ass for a living. Dylan sat up straight as Tenpenny left an extremely pissed off looking Pulaski and entered the car. He was tall, dark skinned and well built, sharp features and a cat like smile gave him the air of authority.

'Sorry you had to go through that Dylan, Pulaski was supposed to get Adrian on to it,' said Tenpenny a curved smile lined his features and a little less formality crept into his voice, 'but truth be told, you did pretty damn good,' Dylan breathed a sign of relief, he was afraid it would have been over before it had begun. Tenpenny lowered his voice a little 'I think Officer Pulaski is afraid of being outclassed,' he winked and continued smiling. That seemed hardly a reason for Dylan to be sent out and almost and ripped to pieces, he glanced over to the wounded men who were being slowly carted into an ambulance, their faces stricken with pain, though Dylan did not let himself feel any sympathy for them, as far a he was concerned they were making his job unnecessarily harder.

'So are we going to arrest those guys?' asked Dylan curiously, Tenpenny simply shook his head and laughed.

'Oh no no no, that's to trivial for us…' he sighed. 'You see Dylan, the brochure that brought you here, it was a bit dressed up,' he paused and started the ignition, 'Clear up the streets and do you part from the community,' rang Tenpenny in a sing song voice, reciting from the leaflet that Dylan had read only a few weeks ago. 'That's what your average blue collars are for, were investigators Dylan, we may not act like it but we are, we deal in in narcotics, nasty, gritty drugs,' he said slowly, emphasising each word. They swerved violently round a corner and passed through Idlewood.

'So why'd we pick you? You might have met Juan Hernandez, we only brought him in a few weeks ago, but he's not really the right material, to bogged down with all the text book crap,' said Tenpenny snidely.

'So why have you got him?'

'He's damn intelligent, maybe even for his own good…' Tenpenny trailed off. 'There's a different set of rules on the streets, you had the right attitude and today proved it, also during training you were damn impressive as well ,' Dylan recalled the 2 months of tedious, exhausting mental and physical tests though now he was glad he stuck it out. 50 hours of academics, 20 hours of driving, 100 hours of firearms training, 20 hours of human relations, 100 hours of physical training and last of all 20 hours of techniques and procedures. They reached a traffic light and Tenpenny rummaged around in his pocket, and produced a gold badge, circular with an eagle protruding from the top, and on a blue background the words 'US AGENT'. 'Number 1,' began Tenpenny, 'keep that safe, sometimes you'll need it, sometimes its worth keeping it firmly hidden away,' he handed it to Dylan who thrust it into his pocket, puzzled why he had to conceal it. 'Number 2,' Tenpenny paused and reached over to the glove box and pulled out a jet black, smooth pistol and passed it over. 'Have at least one of these on you at all times'

'Glock 29,' muttered Dylan. The light flashed green and Tenpenny took a right and stopped about 100 yards from an overhanging bridge, they were at the mouth of a small cul-de-sac, and Dylan could see why Tenpenny had stopped. The green clad men that Dylan had encountered the previous day were littering the pavement in small compact groups, some were washing their cars, or just simply admiring. Others were chatting as beer slopped from their bottles and they lazily flicked cigarette butts into the road, luckily they weren't paying any attention to the car parked up the street.

'And Number three…can you tell me this one Dylan?' said Tenpenny questioningly. Dylan took a hazardous guess.

'Don't enter a gang neighbourhood…alone?'

'Spot on Mr Garnier, you decide that you have big enough balls, you could get yourself killed…or even worse. They don't take kindly to newcomers, especially this lot, its locals and locals only.' he finished, shifting the handbrake and making a sharp U-turn, they took off again, but at a much slower pace.

'How much did Pulaski tell you this morning about all our delightful residents,' said Tenpenny, Dylan getting the gist of what he was implying, and answered back simply.

'Bits, not much,' said Dylan, Tenpenny nodded slowly, and yawned.

'Well, you've probably heard this before, but you gotta' know your enemy, so lets start at the bottom,' he said, his hands gestured to the street around him. 'Ganton, Grove Street Families HQ, once upon a time these greens used to be the most tough and respected gang in Los Santos, but over the last few years they've declined to practically nothing, though there starting to pick up again due to a certain somebody…' Tenpenny paused and gave a slight gleeful smile, 'and have the potential to be as dangerous as hell,' finished Tenpenny grimly.

'Carl Johnson?' said Dylan quickly, Tenpenny turned to face him and raised an eyebrow.

'You know our Carl then?' said Tenpenny smoothly. Dylan had told Tenpenny about his brief encounter, but the name had slipped his mind completely.

'He was the guy who sped off on the BMX,' he said, Tenpenny's eyebrows creased.

'Don't worry about him,' said Tenpenny hurriedly.

'But-' Dylan began, but Tenpenny cut him off, Dylan was sure purposely.

'Anyway, there are two branches of the Grove Street families, The Orange Groves and The Seville Boulevard families. The Groves are relatively clean, but someone has been running drugs through to the Sevilles for a while now, were not sure who, but I'll tell you about that later.' They left Ganton and passed a Well Stacked Pizza Co. The sun was beginning to set, and the night life was beginning to rise, Dylan eyed a couple of purple Ballas leaning against a dumpster, jeering and whistling at a scantily clad woman who stalked the pavement confidently. Tenpenny watched him.

'Front Yard Ballas, Los Santos' most notorious drug dealers. Prostitution, arms dealings, vandalism, you name it.' Tenpenny then seemed to put a bit more forcefulness into his voice, 'They slip through our fingers every time, stupid bastards… ,' he frowned, it was odd, Tenpenny wasn't the kind of man to admit defeat, thought Dylan not to mention his tone sounded somehow…false. Dylan quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind as Tenpenny began to talk again.

'But the Ballas aren't going to be on your line of work for a while,' said Tenpenny noticing Dylan's suspicious face. 'We have them covered,' he said reassuringly. Dylan looked in the rear view mirror as the hooker walked away with a man dressed in a purple chequered shirt and grey trousers. Tenpenny accelerated and Dylan watched the urban town blur past him, they headed north, and neither talked for a while to lost in their own thoughts. The car ascended up a slope and Tenpenny cleared his throat.

'Now to visit our Hispanic neighbours…' said Tenpenny as they reached the flat road, the area was more a less the same as everywhere else, white bricked houses, palm trees hovering around, kids kicking soccer balls, though instead of purple or green, yellow was the domineering influence in the neighbourhood.

'Las Colinas, one of the many homes of the Los Santos Vagos, second to the Ballas, but just as ruthless,' said Tenpenny. Dylan's eyes surveyed the area, and saw two Vagos members, both topless and sporting yellow head bands, they seemed to be cornering a hooded man, who was waving his hands about frantically.

'Hey Officer, look?' Said Dylan pointing to the three. Tenpenny just blinked and looked at Dylan. 'Shouldn't we…y'know,' Dylan stopped, looking at Tenpenny for a sign of understanding.

'No,' he said stoutly.

'But-'

'Look at that guy Dylan… hooded, baggy trousers, shoes to big for his feet, did they teach you anything at the place?' he said, quite seriously. Dylan faltered, the guy was clearly a drug dealer. 'Never mind.' Tenpenny quickly shunned the subject away. 'Another Hispanic gang that is on the rise is the Varios Aztecas, people say that they were never really a proper gang, but there heavily involved in gun running and street violence, their supposed to be anti-narcotics, but everyone knows that after promoting this image they go looking for a fix,' said Tenpenny smiling once again.

'Were planning to get a small team onto the Aztecas, to hopefully to get some leads on were there getting their cargo from, and hopefully…' he paused his eyes glinting, 'If your ready, you'll be leading that team.' Dylan felt uplifted, the thought that he would be doing something really worthwhile was encouraging, and suddenly decided that the day hadn't gone so badly at all. Tenpenny looked at him knowingly.

'But first, I'm going to assign you your first…objective ,' said Tenpenny, pausing to find the right word. 'You know I told you about the Seville Boulevard Families and the drug running?' Dylan nodded, it seemed ages ago when Tenpenny had introduced him to Grove Street.

'Well, I want you to head down to Playa Del Seville, were the Seville's reside and try and get a name, I don't care how you do it, but it's important,' said Tenpenny forcefully, his tone quite sinister.

'Yeah, of course,' Dylan eagerly said, he had had lessons on undercover work, and ideas were already flooding his mind. He had barely noticed that they had approached East Beach and Tepenny was pulling up on the pavement to Dylan's apartment.

'Hey Dylan, you smoke?' called Tenpenny, as Dylan got out of the car.

'No, my Dad did, and he's 10 foot below the ground,' said Dylan casually. Tenpenny rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a pack of Redwoods.

'Well, you better start tomorrow.' He threw them to Dylan, and he pocketed them, doubting he would use them, but if they made him seem more genuine, what the hell. Dylan unlocked the door and saw out of the corner of his eye, Cesar peering out the window, watching Tenpenny speed of into the distance.