Again, sorry for the short update last time. I got stuck, but felt too far in to start over.

Thanks for the feedback. Love you guys.

Also, it occurred to me that some of y'all might not know; Matt Bloom is Tensai.

Chapter Nine: Briefings

Titan City Major Crimes was officially in business. There was no sign out front advertising their presence, or any real indication indicating to their community that the old warehouse they were based out of was anything other than a rented facility, but the two dozen or so officers who'd been selected for this elite unit were seated behind temporary folding tables, doughnuts and coffee dispersed throughout, while Carmella took an administrative position at the front door, just outside the main room.

Inside that room, trying desperately to stay warm in the poorly insulated structure, Dean was perched on a stool in front of a bulletin board. It was shockingly "low tech" for the twenty first century, but most of the computers and associated equipment weren't operational yet, or were only just so, and so Dean went "old school."

"Ok," he belted resolutely, signalling that he was ready to get serious. The various attendees came to relaxed attention from their seated positions. "So, according to one of our CI's, the Del Rio syndicate is opening a second strip club location on the west end of town." Dean noted that all eyes were on him, which he wasn't sure he enjoyed, but that was his gig now, and so he continued on.

"If this new location is anything like the current address, then it's gonna be a hotbed for trafficking. Drugs, weapons, people. The commissioner's office is dead set against losing another portion of the city to this guy. So, our first task is observation."

Dean pointed toward a three block section of West Titan on the map, with a pre-circled section about four inches in diameter. "There are several buildings in this particular sector that we believe Del Rio has an interest in. The good news is that we'll be able to tell clearly what building they choose. It's a serious operation. So we stake out these few blocks. Huffman, Rhodes, Styles, and Dashwood. Patrol the area. Let 'em see you. Rollins, Flair, y'all will actually be doing the surveillance. There's a burned out parking deck across the street from where we think the club is going in. Get photos and video. Make sure Ryder gets it so he can put it all on flash drive so I can take it to Foley." He sighed. "This being in charge is horseshit." A chuckle rippled through the room. Dean scanned the group again and continued. "The rest of you, keep setting up here. Dana, you're on dispatch duty until we get our full-timers in here next week. Probably Nia Jax and a new hire. Carmella!"

The bleach blonde beauty stuck her head through the door in rapt attention. "Yeah?"

"Make sure the coffee's fresh. It's our first full day. I still got a lot of transfer paperwork to do. Got another half dozen officers here by the end of the week."

There was a ripple of approval. Dana raised her hand cautiously.

"Speak freely, Brooke," Dean responded.

"Ok, uh," she started, not completely confident in her statement, "we were told this was 'major crimes' and we're starting out just dealing with Alberto Del Rio. Seems like this is really just a task force just to bring him in."

Dean snickered. The well-built blonde had a point. All the feedback he'd gotten from Foley led him to believe they should start with the charismatic Latino, and Del Rio surely had his hands in a LOT of pots in the Stamford area, but he wasn't there only job. Just their most important. He quickly prepared his answer.

"Dana, as far as the mayor's office is concerned, right now Alberto Del Rio IS major crimes in Titan City. We bring him down, we cut the head off the snake."

The buxom officer considered this, then nodded. "Cool. So I'm just here coordinating today?"

Dean grinned in the affirmative. "Yeah. You're running the show. I got shit-tons of paperwork and more transfers coming in today. Speaking of which," he trailed off, checking his watch. "I should have another couple guys showing up today."

He'd no sooner gotten the words from his mouth when the main doors flung open seemingly on their own. A second later, a bleached blonde man with superbly defined arms and shoulders swaggered through the warehouse meeting area as though he were in charge. Trailing him was a massive bald man who appeared to be in his early fifties and a striking woman with jet black hair and a generous smattering of tattoos.

"Dolph fuckin' Ziggler!" Dean exclaimed, a broad grin splashing across his face.

"Dean," Dolph responded, obnoxious smile of his own plastered through his countenance. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to be me, bitch." Dean refused to let Dolph get over on him. The two met near the center of the room, coming together in a rough embrace. "The fuck are you doing here?"

Dolph shrugged. "I work here now. You didn't get the email?"

Dean snickered. "I haven't checked shit. Holiday. Hold on." He thumbed a series of buttons on his phone. After a minute of intense scanning on his screen, Dean's face signaled he'd found what he was looking for.

"Shit yeah, here it is." He turned his phone toward Dolph, who squinted at the display.

"Yep, that's me." He thumbed resolutely behind him. "By the way, I brought you a couple care packages. You'll find their transfer papers in your inbox soon." He started with the hulking fiftysomething. "This is Bill Goldberg. He's been in homicide almost twenty five years."

Dean smiled with recognition. "I've heard of you." He extended his hand for a vigorous shake. "You're a fuckin' legend."

"I prefer 'immortal,'" Bill quipped. "I'm just here to crack some more skulls before I retire. Wanna help clean up the streets. And this police department."

"You will, Bill," Dolph countered. He gestured over his other shoulder. "This is Ruby Riott. Graduated top of her class at the academy. Has trouble following regulations, as you can see," Ziggler motioned up one of her arms and down the other for emphasis.

Dean chortled again. "She sounds like one of us already." Dean took her hand in his. "Good to have you."

Ruby returned with a tight lipped smile. "Good to be here. I trust we can really dispense some justice in this unit." She stopped to shake her head. "Be a nice change of pace from these pussies I'm used to dealing with."

Now Ambrose laughed louder. He'd spent the first half of his career thinking the exact same thing.

"Yeah, Ruby. You'll get to kick as much ass as you want to."

She smirked. "Cool. I'm in." She stepped closer to Dean, giving him a glance up and down before running her finger down the center of his torso. "What're you doing later?"

"Holy shit," Dean internalized. He'd been propositioned by Dana, Becky, and now this new girl within a three week period. He was also sure he could wear Naomi's friend Nia Jax out whenever he wanted if he were just interested in a fling. "You're taken now, shitheel," Ambrose reminded himself.

"Sorry, girl, my girlfriend would beat your ass." Dean wasn't sure he believed that, but he was loyal, and as attractive as he found the raven haired punk, he'd just asked Becky to be exclusive. It would do him no good to go back on that now.

Ruby raised an eyebrow in return, before giving a didmissive snicker. "I doubt that very seriously, but I don't think you could handle me anyway."

Now laughs were emanating from more than one corner of the giant building, though Dean refused to acknowledge them.

Instead, he just directed Dolph, Bill, and Ruby to where they could set up shop and start reporting every morning. Ruby's application for transfer wasn't close to completed, but her references were incredible, and Dean needed all the competent officers he could get at the moment. There were a few transfer requests that still intrigued him, and Ambrose figured he'd spend most of the rest of the day going through them.

He'd retired to the friendly confines of his office when his phone started vibrating with urgency. The last thing Dean needed at that moment was a distraction, but he also wasn't going to pass up the chance to get more quality police officers in his building. He perused the incoming message, and his heart fluttered when he saw who it was from.

Ey boyo, last night was amazing. Why didnt you wake me up before you left?

The abject delight Dean Ambrose took from this message couldn't be understated. Becky brought him an inordinate amount of happiness. This was certain. Both in her inner spirit, and in her command of the sex appeal that was obvious to anyone that spent more than about forty seven seconds around her. Ambrose thumbed out a thoughtful response.

You exerted a LOT of energy yesterday. Plus, & idk if u kno this, but u r angelic when u sleep. I didn't have it in me 2 disturb u.

It bothered Dean how into Becky he already was. He was just considering every inch of the brash doctor when his phone buzzed again.

Ur right. I sure did have it in me yesterday though, yeah? You're pretty fantastic, Ambrose.

Rly? Well. let me get done here and I'll be back to the hotel.

Becky grinned from her prone position in the king sized bed in the suite she currently occupied.

I kno u got ur briefings today. But get through ur bullshit, come back 2 the "love shack" and you'll get your de-briefing. ;)

Dean snickered. That was another quality of Becky's that he found entrancing. Her sense of humor. It was concerning to him that he already felt so irredeemably smitten with the woman who'd also treated his gunshot trauma, given his still somewhat fresh divorce and the emotional trauma that had accompanied it, but Dean also knew the woman he was rapidly falling for was different. He quickly mustered a return.

Looking forward 2 that. U r something special, Lynch.

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

I kno. And that's Dr. something special Lynch to you.

Ambrose chuckled heartily, pocketing his phone. He quickly scanned the personnel in his charge, as they broke off into smaller groups and planned their incursions for the day. As quickly as his mind had gone to the fancy suite with his auburn-haired lover, he was drawn back to the present, and a final email he'd received a few minutes before.

"Oh yeah," he called, as every head in the room snapped toward him. "Tomorrow, we're going out to the Academy. Gonna get a few fresh recruits, since almost every clean cop I know is already in this room." There was a smattering of laughter. "Anyone who wants to come out, feel free. Roman and his hires have to be out there bright and early for field training. The rest of us can head out there after."

A murmur of agreement filled the room. After a moment, Dean turned back toward his office and closed the door, consumed by getting his paperwork done and returning to his new love interest as quickly as possible.

When Alberto Del Rio sent the message to his subordinates that their presence was required at eight pm at a newly acquired empty factory, every recipient of that particular notification knew that attendance was mandatory. Alberto himself hadn't intended on any group activity on that particular day, but a last minute phone call from a former lieutenant changed the fancy dinner he'd planned with Eva Marie to a rather complex gathering with several moving parts.

As Ricardo Rodriguez deftly maneuvered Alberto's town car into a concrete monolith some miles from the extravagant restaurant they'd planned to join Rodriguez's wife in, the crime boss took stock of who he could already tell had arrived from wherever around the city they were.

He'd gotten the flood of texts from Enzo and Cass earlier in the day. Their location scout had been clearly staked out by "Titan's finest," and that had made the small Italian nervous enough, but then he'd also been visited by Jim Laurinaitis, president of the "Legion of Doom," Titan's most notorious biker gang. Jim asked, albeit without a lot of grace in his tone, for a sit down with the boss. When Big Cass took exception to how brusque the leather-clad man had been in his request, Laurinaitis, who went by the street moniker "Animal," pulled a rather large handgun on Cassady. When Big Cass pulled his own piece in response, around two dozen other "LOD" gang members also revealed weapons of various degrees of terror. However, cooler heads prevailed, and Enzo simply arranged the late night pow-wow with their employer.

So now Del Rio was trying to kill two birds with one stone. He could have his meeting with his former protege and Laurinaitis and still have time to be at his fancy dinner with Ricardo and the others by nine. As his chaffeured vehicle coasted carefully into the designated area, a small smile creased the mouth of Titan's notorious "el Patron."

"Pull it in here," Del Rio instructed Rodriguez. The smaller man nodded, before following his bosses instructions to the letter. "Here" was directly behind a parked box truck, it's sliding door pulled all the way down so as to conceal its contents. Del Rio noticed that gathered around said truck were three or four men Alberto didn't know. He thumbed the safety on his concealed weapon to the "off" position, always cautious when sensing possible danger. His pulse did slow a bit when he saw from the corner of his eye several vehicles he recognized as belonging to the men in his employ. Matt Bloom and Brodus Clay unfolded their massive frames from a black SUV, with Enzo and Cass hopping from the backseat as though the vehicle were on fire. Mojo Rawley parked his Honda racing motorcycle not far from Del Rio's vehicle, and Baron Corbin and Joe Seanoa emerged from Corbin's pickup, their emotions tensed but bodies relaxed, unwilling to give away any hint of stress to potential enemies.

All of that preparation was for naught. After a few precious seconds, the passenger door of the box truck opened and a youngish man in one of the nicest three piece suits Del Rio had ever seen on anyone other than himself. Grinning with familiarity, the curly-haired man strode confidently toward Del Rio.

"Ethan!" Alberto exclaimed jubilantly, "how are you my friend?"

Ethan Carter smiled back at him wealthily, if it were possible to do such a thing. "I'm great, Alberto."

Del Rio gave his former top lieutenant the once over. "How is your aunt Dixie?"

Carter nodded again. "She's good. Moved the business to Nashville, where she can keep a closer eye on the cook houses. That's why I called you here, actually." He motioned toward the back of the box truck, nonverbally urging Del Rio to follow him. "Before I show you what I really have for you, I got a couple guys I wanted to recommend."

As he said those words, two massive men unfurled themselves from the passenger's side of the truck, lightly dropping to the ground one at a time. From a second dark vehicle, another man, this one much smaller, yet still just as intimidating, confidently slammed the door behind him as he rose.

"So," Ethan continued, "I'm packing up and taking the operation to Philly. Aunt Dixie wants to run distribution out of there. I'm taking most of the guys with me, but I got three here that would prefer to stay here." He turned over one shoulder and called out to the twins.

"Akam! Razar!" He motioned for the men to approach. Instinctively, several of Del RIo's associates reached for their weapons, but Del Rio waved his men off.

"It's okay, amigos, I trust Ethan."

Ethan gestured toward his compatriots. "This is Akam and Razar Ellering. Serbian nationals adopted at seven. They're staying because they have a couple of VERY profitable rackets they don't want to give up. But they're excellent bodyguards. I told them I'd put in a good word with you."

"They loyal?" Del Rio asked, genuinely intrigued by this new possibility.

Carter nodded intently. "Extremely. And lethal as well."

Del Rio gave both massive men the once over. "Okay. We will try them out on a...probationary basis. Won't we, Enzo?"

The bleached blonde man, only half paying attention to this point, flinched with a start. "How you doin', boss?"

"I'll take that as a yes, 'Zo."

Amore snickered, as did his boss. At Del Rio's signal, his minions greeted Akam and Razar as friends, shaking hands and spewing brief introductions. Ethan watched for a bit, before remembering why he was actually there.

"Oh, yeah, 'Berto, I found the leaks in your money laundering operation." As he spoke, he worked the latch of the truck's sliding door, revealing two bloody figures, beaten to a pulp and kneeling.

They were men aged between 35 and 40, their clothes lightly stained with blood. The blonder of the two men had tears rolling softly from his cheeks. Both were bound and had their mouths gagged with silver duct tape.

Del Rio snickered, instantly recognizing the two men.

"Taylor? Christopher?"

Carter nodded solemnly. "Yep. I didn't think it was them, but we caught both of them red handed."

Alberto shook his head, as though he were genuinely surprised that these were the two of his low level dealers that had been skimming money. In truth, he'd known for days that it was this pair, but Alberto looked at the fact that Ethan brought them to him as a final testament to the Carter family's loyalty.

"Shit," Del Rio muttered to himself. "Ricardo, can you believe this?"

Shocked that his boss was asking for his opinion, Ricardo Rodriguez's eyes grew as wide as saucers.

"No boss, I thought they were clean." He didn't really think that, but there was no point in voicing that opinion now. He just shrugged, confirming back to Alberto what he wanted to hear.

Alberto clicked his lips in disapproval. "It's a real shame, 'mano." He turned back toward the entrance to the structure, where a cement mixing truck was backing in, giving off loud "beeps!" as it rolled slowly.

Del Rio continued. "Maybe I'm getting soft in my old age." He was muttering to himself now, shaking his head and pacing back and forth. "Maybe I haven't sent a clear enough message that disrespect will not be tolerated." The cement truck parked next to Del Rio's sedan, extending the chute into a perfectly square indention in the surface about 8 feet on each side.

"Andrade!" Del Rio greeted the driver. Another man was with him. A "button guy" Ricardo Rodriguez knew as Jorge Arias.

"Boss," Andrade Almas returned. Del Rio traced his gaze from the two traitors in the back of Ethan Carter's box truck, to the pit underneath the cement chute running from the back of the borrowed mixer, and back.

"Akam. Razar," Del Rio called the two newest members of his organization. "Lay our two friends here down in the pit. They look like shit. I bet they could use a rest."

Akam snickered and glanced at Razar, before lightly flicking his head toward their objective. Without a single wasted movement, the two gigantic enforcers reached into Ethan Carter's delivery truck and slung the two objects of Alberto's disdain over their shoulder. Without much malice or care, they dropped their cargo into the square divot, smirking to themselves at what they thought was going to happen.

"You want us to put a bullet in them, boss?" Colin Cassady asked, suddenly threatened by the presence of two new associates who were almost as large as him.

Del Rio smirked. "No, Cass, but rough them up a little. Put the boots to them. Hard."

Cassady snickered. He'd been itching to really lay a beating on someone since his ill-fated encounter with Dean Ambrose. Wide, sadistic grin on his face, he lurched down into the same hole Del Rio's victims were occupying. After a moment, Seanoa, Corbin, and Rawley joined him.

Cassady made the first move. With all the rage he'd accrued the last couple days, he brought his size sixteen boot down on the face of Scott Taylor. The duct tape kept the man from crying out, but Cass could tell he wanted to. To his credit, Brian Christopher took the beating like a man, as he had every other part of his treatment since he'd been caught skimming profits from Alberto Del Rio's methamphetamine-cooking operations outside of Titan City. Brian had a daughter in expensive private school, and so hiding the ill-gotten gains had served him well, even at the additional coast to the man's well being.

And that was fine with Alberto. In a perverse way, he respected Brian Christopher. He'd stolen money to make a better life for his children. When Del Rio found out that fact, he'd ordered that Christopher's family not be touched. Once he'd dealt with Brian, that debt would be squared. Del Rio had even considered setting up a college fund for his children. Taylor was another story. He'd begged, pleaded, and cried from the second he'd been captured. Alberto had no patience for a thief that wasn't willing to face the potential consequences of his actions.

The crime lord watched his subordinates lay a beating on the two transgressors for a few more seconds. Shaking his head, he finally called off the thugs.

"Enough, boys." He gazed down into the hole, taking in his associates' handiwork. Brian Christopher still wouldn't cry. Scott Taylor, on the other hand, was whimpering, begging for his life through the oppressive tape over his mouth.

"Put that one out of his misery," Del Rio commanded, pointing at Brian Christopher. "And no one touches his family," he directed, the seriousness of his voice betraying how swift any disobedience of this order would be. Mojo Rawley pulled out a nine millimeter, sneering down at his intended victim. Instead of sniveling, as his partner was, Christopher simply closed his eyes, and gave himself the "sign of the Cross," indicating that he was making his peace with his Maker. Even in his advanced adrenaline rush, Mojo respected the manner in which Christopher was receiving the consequences of his actions. After staring down at the man for another beat, Rawley pulled the trigger twice, granting Christopher the easy transition to the afterlife he deserved.

Taylor wasn't so lucky. Watching in horror as Christopher's life was snuffed out by one of Del Rio's men, Taylor again protested as vocally as possible against the duct tape over his mouth.

"You want us to do him, too?" Amore inquired of his employer.

Del Rio smiled, though there was nothing redeeming in it. "No, Enzo. He didn't earn that."

Instead, Alberto gestured for Jorge Arias to begin pouring cement into the hole that was currently occupied by the pair of turncoats, leading to even louder muffled cries from the surviving Taylor.

"Let's go, Ricardo," Del Rio spat offhandedly to his driver and friend, as though he were leaving his house five minutes late. "We don't want to keep our women waiting." Alberto took his normal seat, relaying to his men nonverbally that ordering insubordinate employees killed was no big deal. He even cracked a slight grin as he heard the distressed cries of Scott Taylor. The cement would suffocate him, a bit at a time, a slow painful death befitting a cowardly traitor.

That took forever. I'm sorry. Some shit is going down in my personal life. I'll keep plugging along, though. I'll also provide a preview for my slasher story I'll be posting this fall. Love y'all. Review.