"Good morning, Lieutenant," John said as Rita walked through the door and stopped at his desk for her messages.

"Good morning, John," Rita Ortiz answered as John handed her three slips of paper.

John Irvin had a habit of organizing her messages so that the topmost was the most important, so she was not surprised when she saw Chief of D's office and the familiar phone number written in John's beautiful cursive handwriting.

"One of those days, it looks like."

"No rest for the wicked, Lieutenant."

I wish I had the spare time to be wicked, she thought as she walked to her office.

She had barely reached her desk when the phone rang.

Jesus, can I at least get a cup of coffee?

She had not had time to close the door to her office, and most of the detectives working the 8 to 4 day shift had not arrived yet, so John had no trouble hearing her words.

"15th squad, Lt. Ortiz. No, I got it - like five seconds ago. You were my first call if you had given me another sixty seconds."

John heard the irritation in her voice. He leaned back in his chair to get a better view of his Lieutenant as she listened and wrote.

"OK, I'll get someone over there," she said and hung up the phone before looking out the window of her office to see her PAA sitting straight at his desk and looking straight ahead at the two detectives entering the squad room.

"Good morning, detectives," John said to Joe Slovak and Ray Quinn.

"Morning, John," each said.

"Perfect timing," Rita said as she handed a slip of paper to Detective Joe Slovak. "There was another one last night."

"Jesus, three nights in a row?" Quinn asked.

"Four," Slovak corrected him as he read the address his lieutenant had written in the chicken scrawl that passes for her handwriting.

"Is that a three or a five?" he asked her.

Rita opened her mouth before closing it again as she took the paper from his hand and looked at what she wrote.

"Three," she said as she handed it back.

"Four nights in a row," said Ray Quinn, shaking his head as he took a radio from the charging station.

Rita watched them both as they headed down the stairs and out of her view. Slovak was right. Four nights in a row. A total of thirteen men with an assortment of mob connections, beaten bloody, trussed up, along with whatever they had been dealing or moving or making. All right where the anonymous tip, delivered as a GPS tagged video, said they would be.

This last tip would be just as untraceable as the other three. Not the first three, God no, this last batch was only the last batch. Precincts across the city had been receiving gifts like this for a while now. It was only because some of those gifts had been transporting kidnapped women that the NYPD had any information on the source of those gifts. The gifts themselves would not utter one word on the topic.

Thirteen bad guys off the streets should have made Rita happy, but Lt. Ortiz was not happy. Rita did not like vigilantes, especially the kind that came with special suits, and special abilities. It was her job, and her detectives, to take these assholes off the streets, not some overprivileged dickhead with too much money, too much time and no accountability or even the most basic concept of chain of custody.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" the ADA asked her after the second batch of gifts, "How long between when you received the tip and when your men showed up? How do we prove that it's their drugs?"

"They gave us the men, they gave us the drugs, they gave us the location. Make something out of it," she had answered. "Some idiot in a yellow suit is this summer's version of Santa Clause, however much I don't like their methods."

Rita's squad was one of the best in the country. If anyone could get a suspect to roll on his employer, it was them. Plus, none of these thirteen men wanted to be back on the street and have to explain how it was that several million dollars' worth of whatever had slipped through their fingers. She was sure that they could follow this trail of little fish back to the bigger fish that employed them.

But how far back, and how big was the head fish?