Sergio

'Sergio', Selena appeared at my desk, handing me a coffee, 'don't you think she needs more food?' 

Once I'd tried all the legal ways to get her to talk, she left me with a migraine.

In an iced cold, infested cell, Amy slept on a flat rock floor bed, and for five days straight I fed her one bowl of slop and a cup of water a day.

For someone as trained as her, whose face appeared in every grand theft case I was on for a whole year, no doubt she was working for a bigger organization that put minors at the forefront. 

In this case, the theft of this diamond was like a slap in the face to the kingdom still in search for their abducted daughter. 

'Is this legal?' Selena confronted me, giving me wide bug eyes.

'What you care about legal? With your camera hacking app?'

'Yeah, but hacking cameras doesn't deprive minors of food and sleep'.

'But it does deprive people of their privacy, hypocrite'.

'She could die', she mumbled on, 'we should mayb –'

'Okay – just –' I couldn't think with all her nagging, 'don't question my methods'. She stormed off. If I was gone, I left Kai and Morello to watch her cell, and only let her out if she needed the bathroom, or if she was ready to talk.

Twenty-four-hours later... 

'GOOD morning, Amy', I greeted her through a megaphone. Like a disturbed pet, she shook up, 'can you smell that? That's the smell of freshly made buttered pancakes and sugary crepes, smoked bacon, caramelised sausages...' After a long time of not eating real food, appealing to her senses was key, 'with a side of the finest dulce de leche...' slicing her jaded eyes at me, I could tell it was working.

'Asshole', quickly, she squeezed her grumbling stomach. For days, I found a time to sit in her face and eat a rosy meal, whether Crispy Creams, churros, pizza or a luxury breakfast while we sparked up a brief conversation. 

How did I find out her favourite food? Simple.

'You and your friend... miss Martinez, right?' Amy's eyebrows raised, 'don't you miss making this breakfast together?' Through the footage, Selena was able to run a search on Amy's ghost friend.

Cleo Martinez: eighteen-years-old, a Black Brazilian girl with full black hair, glasses, taller. A genius... all except for one loose end.

'Cleo...' she mumbled inwardly. Assuming that we had found Cleo, plus her hunger cramps, Amy gradually lost composure.

'Don't worry. She's safe', I lied, having no idea where she was, 'Cleo already confessed her side of the story. But if you talk, we'll release her, plus I'll lower both your sentences to eight weeks of probation. The only ones who will get in real trouble, are your leaders'.

'What did she say?'

'That's confidential', I replied, 'but as soon as I have an explanation from you, I'll let you know, and you'll get to eat. Deal...?' And that's how I wrapped up the sweetest and most appealing compromise; by making it all about Amy, who gave in seconds later.

'Martin Acosta', I explained to my team, writing his name on my whiteboard, above Amy and Cleo, the two minors that ran jobs for him, 'he is their line manager, and part of a bigger heist organisation'. Around me only stood Kai, Morello, and Selena. Being a man of my word, we pampered Amy with all the food I promised her, as well as a more comfortable confinement with heating. 'He operates often in the penthouse of The Rosewater Hotel, not far from Chinatown'.

'Hey', Selena bopped eagerly, 'I was there yesterday. That's probably why Amy and that girl are always in the area'.

'What if Acosta has his own security working for him in the hotel?' Kai suggested, 'he'll spot us out like flies'.

'Not if we're discreet', I replied. Before we made the arrest, we had to determine who his hotel security was, precisely where Amy came in, sketching and naming every face we had to beware off. 'So, here's the plan...'

Placing ourselves in three strategic corners of The Rosewater, Kai across the hotel building watching the roof, Morello booked on the top floor as a hotel guest, Selena and I on the ground floor, we would begin.

'Sergio', Selena mumbled through her mic, standing near the opposite entrance of the hotel where I stood, 'it's not working'. Heavily encrypted with VPN security, the Rosewater's cameras were difficult to access, so we had to improvise.

'Morello?' While Morello was ordering a cocktail on the rooftop where Acosta was relaxing, Kai was letting me know his hotel room, by identifying Acosta's security through the windows. 'Did you speak to him yet?'

'I'm getting to it', Morello replied. His job was to keep Acosta as distracted as possible as we rummaged his room.

'Sergio, two of Acosta's security are dressed as maintenance', Kai updated me, 'they may be heading downstairs'. Service lifts. It occurred to me that Selena and I could bump into Acosta's security through back-of-house. Keeping a meter's distance, Selena discreetly followed a housekeeper through the "private" doors, throwing a napkin between the crack to keep the door unlocked, and waiting for me to come across to her side.

'Hey! I'm in!' she beamed, hacking all twelve service room cameras, 'I have an idea'. 

'What is it?'

Since they were heading all the way to the basement, we waited on the fifth floor for them, but as the lift opened, we accidentally startled a room service waiter. 

'Oops. Wrong lift'. Moving to the left elevator, we braced ourselves again. Ding. Our lift arrived. On opposite sides, Selena and I hid behind the oblique walls waiting three seconds... until the elevator doors began to close.

'Whoa-hoa', I pushed open the door, pretending to be out of breath, 'just in time, right?' The guy on the left was a Latino business executive, and the guy on Selena's side was a trained assassin, bald. The service lift was wide enough to fit the two big laundry trollies they rolled around with them. 

Ten awkward seconds passed before the men comprehended our deliberate mistake. Going down. Pretending to be a tourist couple, Selena and I held hands.

'Err, you guys realise these are the staff lifts, right?'

'Are they? Oh', Selena replied, looking slightly at the assassin behind her, 'see honey. I told you'. 

For a few seconds, Selena and I pretended to whisper-argue, but as soon as Selena coughed (which was our signal), we attacked in sync. Slapping sedative chips into the necks of both men, they both fell unconscious in seconds. 

We dumped both men into a single laundry trolly, stripped off their uniform jackets, and obtained their key cards, heading right up to the penthouse. Upon arrival, I led while Selena followed behind, rolling the empty trolley through the hallway.

'Morello?' I called.

'His room is 2c', Morello whispered, then going back to talking with Acosta. We clocked into 2c, creeping in to find a wide 90-degree balcony and complementary couches that were rounded. Selena had already started rummaging through Acosta's personal things, while I remained distracted in the beauty of the luxury urban-interior.

'Look!' Selena whispered, 'it's a case study on the diamond Amelia', showing me Acosta's laptop screen, 'also the plan for the robbery, his clientele, completed heists, and planned heists for the future. It's all here'.

'Good. Download as much as you can. Don't you have a memory stick?'

'Ergh. Memory sticks. Sooo archaic', she replied, flipping out her phone and fidgeting with some functions.

'What are you doing?'

'AirDropping'. Okay whatever. 'These files are big, so it might take a minute or two'.

'Sergio?!' Morello grumbled, 'he's got two more security guys we don't know, and their all heading to the room, so you betta make it quick'.

'Can't you hold him up for just a few more minutes?' I requested, skimming the room for as much useful information as I could find on Acosta's organization, 'Selena, how long has it got left?'

'Nearly done...' Shortly after, Acosta and his men walked in on us. With not enough time to complete our task, we were compromised. Acosta's eyes flared open, while his two security men flipped out their guns on us, a target on Selena and the other on me. In response we flipped out our guns. Acosta, tall and round, pulled out a gun from his rouge robe.

'You're outnumbered', he grunted in a rich Portuguese accent.

'Not exactly', Morello bustled from behind the men, his gun directly on Acosta, 'now we're even'.

Not long after, we had Acosta and all his security arrested, including the unconscious maintenance workers inside the laundry trolley. We didn't allow him and Amy to cross sights.

In the comfort of my bedroom, I submerged my focus into the plans and scans Selena was able to obtain, until distracted by a door knock. Stunned by who I saw, I stammered.

Priscilla Brouillette:

Daughter of a wealthy French businessman, and graduate from the same law school I went to. Also, my ex. Like me, Priscilla was half-Brazilian. In her slender business suit, and long blonde hair with brown undertones, her radiance never failed to entice me. She granted herself permission into my apartment, 'so, should we get sentimental, or cut straight to the chase?'

'I...err, think we should...err...'

'Don't be mad. I'm Martin's lawyer'.

'What?!' I was mad, but at the same time... bewildered. Out of all the lawyers that could have possibly represented Acosta, it had to be a woman I had unfinished business with.

Even though our end was abrupt, my feelings for her didn't just disappear when she did. Knowing where my alcohol cabinet was, she grabbed herself some wine, then I felt compelled to join. Of course, I was happy for her; she was a good lawyer. Impeccable in fact. To my surprise, we actually enjoyed updating each other with every detail of our lives. But... this?

'Don't you find it annoying?' Priscilla asked, 'that we're on opposite sides?'

'I question your choices', I replied. While she sunk into my cosy chair, I sat on the floor parallel to her legs, 'but then again', I shrugged. After a suspicious minute of quiet, she dipped her curious face to look at my laptop screen.

'Are you studying a diamond?' she asked. Careful not to reveal any further information, I slammed my laptop shut, then picked up my wine glass and sipped anxiously. From her comfortable position, she slithered her body next to mine.

'Why are you defending Martin?' I deflected her curiosity.

'Why does it matter?' gradually shifting her weight onto my shoulder, I figured out where she was going. Those tender, manipulative and rosy lips hovered across my neck, while I placed my laptop to the side, 'wait, you really think I'm here for leverage?' Looking into Priscilla's eyes was like putting myself in a voluntary trance, so I kept as much focus on the wine as I possibly could. After placing her wine glass on the coffee table, she grabbed my wine glass doing the same. Then, with her seldom kisses upon my cheek and neck, she unravelled me... until another knock on my door.

'Wait...' I mumbled, repelling against her pull, 'I have to get this'.

'No', she held my shoulder, 'at midnight? Maybe it's a prank, or just the wind'. With caution, and against Priscilla's will, I approached my front door, then peered through the peephole.

What? A stuffed pony? Noticing the familiar fabric wrapped around it, I took it in.

'No, Sergio!' Priscilla shrieked, 'why would you take it in? What if it's a bomb?' It was the same fabric I found at the girls' hideout, that belonged to my mother. Now I was mad, because clearly someone was trying to mess with my mind. 'Sergio –'

'Maybe – you should go home, Priscilla'. Angrily, Priscilla grabbed her jacket and left.

Consumed with unanswered questions about the stuffed pony, the next morning slapped me in the face. Having a headache before the day even begun was not fun. At the time I got to the elevator, Selena arrived, typing fast on her phone, eyes glued to her screen. Real live conversations, or the courtesy of saying good morning was a far-fetched concept to people her age.

'Good morning to you too', I slurred sardonically.

'Meeting Acosta's lawyer was nice', she had an attitude, 'it was also nice to know you and this lawyer shared a hot week in Palermo'.

'Okay, first off, how do you even know about that trip?'

'You may be a ghost on socials, but your ex is sloppy. She tagged you in an undeleted mugshot, and I found your reflection taking the photo. Nice to know you side with the enemy'.

'What?!' I felt a vain in me burst, 'let me give you two pieces of advice. First of all, stop! Secondly, mind your own business –' Selena cut me off, mimicking my words.

'What? Cops get hired to mind their own business?' she attempted to justify herself, 'I'm a detective. I dig'. As soon as the elevator doors opened, she stormed off, mumbling beneath her breath. Great. Another walking-talking headache.

'You seem to get along great with your detectives, lieutenant', Priscilla's voice emerged from the corner. Just in time, she waited in the reception outside of the offices.

'Excuse her. She's my intern', I explained.

'Excused. Where's Acosta, my client?' Priscilla cut to the chase.