Winnie Camden sat behind her desk, whirling from computer screen to computer screen as she tried to track down the 911 call Team Two had received. The triangulated signal gave her a rough idea of where the call had generated from, but they needed more. She began to run a background check on the owner of the phone while cross referencing other emergency calls from the vague area of the call from the troubled youth.
Zachary Adams, born 17 May 1997 to Lindsey and Michael Adams. Nothing illegal or criminal reported for the teenager, a couple of DUIs and public misdemeanors from the father that had been sorted out a few years ago. No reported history of abuse or violence in the household, no gun permits, no priors for possession of illegal substances... An alert sounded from a program Winnie had been running. An anonymous tip was placed roughly forty minutes before the emergency call the SRU had received, stating the time and place in which a fight would occur involving a kid who was possibly under the influence. The voice recognition software matched the two callers to be the same, which still left some major questions.
The second call came from a phone belonging to Adams, the first call, being anonymous, would be more difficult to track. Who reported Adams's phone missing? Did Adams make the calls, and if he didn't, who did? Was the caller planning on getting into a fight or preventing it? The voice sounded unsure. Johnson Forest- an area of approximately 25 square miles. The call came from the northern side, so that should narrow the perspectives down considerably. Hopefully. If the caller is anywhere near accurate, and he says the fight will take place in a couple of hours, there's a possibility that the kid in the caller's tip is within a five-ten mile radius from where the call originated from. Winnie started to map out the plausible location where the supposed fight would be taking place later that night.

"I'm telling you, there's no way," Lew said in between bench presses.
"Then how'd you explain both of them going to check the cage? After they went hand-to-hand? Something's going on," Spike insisted.
"Babycakes giving you problems again?" Wordy half-teased. Spike glanced quickly at Lew, unsure if he should let Wordy in on their little guessing game.
"Her infrared cameras are a bit off, buddy," Lew supplied, earning him a dirty glare from Spike and a slight smile from Wordy. Everyone knew not to joke about Spike's precious cargo but it was hard to resist the temptations to make fun of his 'girl'.
"But I just checked them! How's that possible?" Even though Spike knew this conversation was going on for Wordy's benefit, he became worried that maybe there could be something wrong with his Baby. Spike held his ground and resisted the urge to check his robot as he began doing leg lifts. Wordy returned his attention to the Maple Leafs game on TV and Lew mouthed the words 'no way' another time to Spike, getting the last word before returning to his weights.

The gun cage, organized and neat, all the tactical shotguns in one spot, all the pistols together, all the rifles-
"All there, all locked," Sam said.
"All the ammo?" Jules asked. Sam turned to face her as he said "What, you think I'm that incompetent?" with a smile on his face. Jules smiled back and flicked his ear.
"What was that for?"
"You got some blue paint specks on you," Jules replied. "We really should be more careful about this."
"What exactly is 'this', anyway?" Sam tried to make his voice sound casual, his face relatively emotionless. He certainly knew how he felt about Jules, but didn't know if those feelings were reciprocated. Jules's response wasn't with words, but with an expression on her face that Sam read as 'really, Sam, we're gonna do this here and now?'. Sam broke the silence and said "Don't worry, Jules, all I do is prime your drywall," which earned him a blush and slap to the cheek. Seriously, I'm gonna have to tell her sooner or later. I wish it could be sooner, besides, Jules has made it very clear that if it's the Team or me...I'll settle for later Sam thought as he counted bullets and organized ammunition.

"Keep talking like that and you'll be on your own tonight, Braddock," Jules warned. We're supposed to be professionals here. We can't let our emotions get the best of us, especially on a call. Connect, respect, protect. Keep the peace. That's the job, not flirting with snipers. But at the same time- I really like 'this', what Sam and I have. If it comes down to him or Team One...and then- wow, I sound like a whiny teenager. So much for professionalism.

A 911 operator transferred a call that came from the area around Johnson Forest to the Strategic Response Unit. Winnie hit 'play' and listened to it before she put out the alert.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"This kid was hanging around, I let him borrow my phone to make a call. It slipped my mind earlier, but I think I heard him talkin' about a gunfight in the woods tonight."

This new call, this new information. Pieces started to fit in place, timelines steadied themselves. Winnie checked, double-checked, triple-checked everything to be certain that now was the time. Now was time for the Team to move.
"Team One, gear up," Winnie's calm voice filled the room.