New partner

Stone arrived an hour early for his shift as instructed. He changed out of his civvies and into his uniform in the locker room, not happy that his body cam hadn't arrived as promised. The guy who had shuffled up alongside of him at the urinal and dissed him at the size of his wiener ambled over.

"You that Stone guy who used to be a suit over at homicide?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Just askin' that's all. Keep your shirt on, man. Only I heard you were first responder over at the Dodger's Stadium. Any news?"

"Nah, from what I've heard, forensics haven't got diddly, only the bullets and pellets."

"But there were witnesses, right?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Cause I'd partnered him a few times. He'd only just transferred from here to Central. Shook the crap outta me when I heard."

"Yeah. Me too when I saw him bled out. Witnesses were next to useless."

"I hear you had a run-in with Granger's crew."

"Not really. Just banter."

"All the same, give them a wide berth if ya wanna takes my advice."

Stone glanced at his name tag. Officer Jefferson had a look of someone who'd been through a few too many boxing rounds, sporting a broken nose, a scar on his right cheek, and with a cauliflower ear on the same side. The snippet of information that Jefferson had partnered the officer before he'd moved to Central was new to Stone. That put all three deceased officers having worked for the same station as the rogue cop.

"Don't worry. I don't need the advice. I can look after myself, thanks."

"Just saying. How come you resigned as a detective to come and work at this shit hole?"

He didn't have to think quickly on his feet. Stone had what to say prepared.

"The boss and me didn't see eye to eye. We couldn't stand the sight of each other. The same with one of his pet detectives."

Jefferson pushed out his bottom lip and nodded his head in approval, like one of those toy dogs with a spring in its neck that you stick on the dash. Jefferson sucked air through his teeth, then turned and walked on through to the briefing room.

Stone dragged his utility belt out of the locker and wrapped it around his waist. He took a deep breath, then ambled through to the briefing room, fastening his belt on the way, then gave it a tug to lift it around his waist. To him, the belt with all the trimmings was an encumbrance. It made him feel like a boy scout, always prepared. He'd forgotten how much of a hindrance it was at times.

Inside the briefing room there were twice as many than had been there the day before, huddled in groups, and with the noise off the decibel scale. The sergeant walked over to the podium. After a scraping of boots and a shuffle of chairs, there was deadly quiet apart from the odd cough. Stone twitched his nose. The room smelled like a gym at the end of a long day before the cleaner arrived to freshen it up from the stench of body odor. The sergeant cleared his throat, and then tapped the microphone.

"Listen up you lot. We've gotten a big operation going down." He turned sideways and tapped the map with his stick pointer. It landed inside the red zone. "That's where it's going down."

There were a few gasps and heads turning in the room.

"It's an inter-agency operation, involving the FBI, SWAT, and GET, the gang enforcement team. Oh, yeah, and good old us. The call sign will be operation gangbang." Laughter erupted. "Listen, jerks, I don't choose the names. Anyways, all we have to do is to close the area down at a specific time. No one in, no one out, and I mean no one. We've got to cordon off the area as tight as a duck's ass, got it?" He drummed his fingers on the podium and glanced around. "Well, have you got it?"

"Got it, sarge," the room exploded in reply.

"Right, Jack will hand out your orders as you leave. Any questions?"

Granger raised his hand.

"Who are they after?"

"That's not our concern. Incidentally, just remember, keep alert, and watch your back. It's bad enough over there, but don't forget we've gotten cop killers still on the loose. I want everyone wearing vests."

Stone raised his arm.

"Who do I have as a partner?"

"It should have been Jake Carter, but he's phoned in sick. Jefferson will partner you."

Stone glanced at Jefferson in time to see him roll his eyes and then pout his bottom lip.

"Right, if there's nothing else, let's get to work," the sergeant said, and then he marched out the way he came in.

The meeting had happened short and sweet, on a need-to-know basis. The powers that be were obviously keen to keep the targets of the operation a secret. The room emptied, save for Stone, his partner for the day, and Granger.

"No making out on the back seat you two love birds," Granger said, as he headed out of the exit.

Stone hurried over to Jack, signed for his order sheet, almost ripping the paper with the nib. He clenched his fists. Jefferson gripped his shoulder from behind, forcing Stone to stop mid-step.

"Don't rise to the bait. He's not worth it. Just suck it up. Hang back, there's no hurry."

Stone grabbed a hold of Jefferson's hand and tugged it from his shoulder.

"You're my partner for the night, not my freakin' dad. Like I said, I can stand my own corner, so I don't need the advice."

"I'm telling you, man. I was only trying to get that chip off of your shoulder. Lighten up." Stone marched toward the locker room. "Where's you going now?"

"Need something from my locker. I'll meet you in the carpool. Car A-eighteen."

He opened his locker door, then reached inside. Making sure there were no eyes watching. He pulled out Candice's purse from the locker he'd stowed in a plastic bag and tucked it inside his shirt. In his mind, crossing the red line was too good an opportunity to miss.