Caesar looks at you with a sigh, a silent request for you to chime in…

>"If you're really just worried about making money it's hard to argue with something like dock work. It isn't glamorous but you don't need to do it forever. Just until you save up enough to get into a local school.
>"GCPD is always looking for new officers, they'll even sponsor you for a criminal justice degree. They have a list of approved degrees, I could pick one up for you."
>"Sports scholarships are a real possibility, you could join your school team or one of the under 18 AM leagues. You should go for it and see what you feel like pursuing AFTER you get into a school."
>Give him a subtle shake of the head. You're not getting in between on this.
>Write-In (Encouraged)

>>6351455
>Write-In (Encouraged)
"Well... GCPD is always looking hard for new officers, and the department will sponsor you for a criminal justice degree. She says you're always drawing, yeah? Maybe a leap, but have you considered becoming a police sketch artist? Better than patrolling a beat, safer, but it can still be life-saving work. I... Well, I've had a good run lately and there are some folks up the chain that I think would listen if I put in a word. I think you could be great."

>>6351520
+1?

>>6351520
+1
We can take him on a ride along sometime if he wants. Sit him down with Hawthorn or Kimble as well.

>>6351455
>"GCPD is always looking for new officers, they'll even sponsor you for a criminal justice degree. They have a list of approved degrees, I could pick one up for you."

>>6351520 is good, too, as an addendum.

>>6351455
>"GCPD is always looking for new officers, they'll even sponsor you for a criminal justice degree. They have a list of approved degrees, I could pick one up for you."

Also agreeing with the police sketch artist idea, and adding in courtroom sketch artist for good measure. SigInt could also be an option, if that's the dudes who sit in the disguised vans listening in on wiretapped phone lines or hanging out with Oracle.

>>6351560
Good point. If the GCPD is willing to sponsor a degree, he could be anything from a beat officer to an IT specialist. There’s no need for him to be a Capital C Cop just cause he joins GCPD.

That being said, the kid’s a fighter. He’s gonna want to mix it up.

>>6351455
>>"Sports scholarships are a real possibility, you could join your school team or one of the under 18 AM leagues. You should go for it and see what you feel like pursuing AFTER you get into a school."

>>6351638
Yeah, my thinking with sketch artist was:
>All cops are constantly recruiting because all departments are understaffed
>This guy is apparently 'always drawing' and into art
>His mom is right there, and if I were a parent in GOTHAM I would NOT want my child to be a police officer????
I mean it's a hard sell IRL, can't imagine it'd be easy to bring someone in when they might be expected to contend with *checks notes* Scarecrow, Calculator, Hatter, Firefly.... Scream Queen... Joker, Bane, Freeze, Ivy, Croc, Grundy, Court of Owls, League of Shadows, etc etc etc
I think if he gets in the mix and decides he is up to the risks and challenge of being a Real Cop that would be cool, but I know a Gotham sketch artist can absolutely save lives.

>>6351520
>>6351539
>>6351546
>>6351553
>>6351560

"Well... GCPD is always looking hard for new officers, and the department will sponsor you for a criminal justice degree. She says you're always drawing, yeah?"

"Used to." He says with a shrug.

"Maybe a leap, but have you considered becoming a police sketch artist? Better than patrolling a beat, safer, but it can still be life-saving work."

"They just hire people for that?"

"I... Well, I've had a good run lately and there are some folks up the chain that I think would listen if I put in a word. I think you could be great. You'd also get to learn some other skills like interviewing."

"What? Like for jobs?"

"No, like knowing the questions to ask. Knowing when to press and when to go easy, being good at art is just a start."

"Is it hard?" Isabelle asks.

"For some people." You answer. "We only have two artists for all our precincts, the tests aren't super easy but if you can secure a contract to be the main sketch artist for one of the departments?"

You rub your fingers together and raise a brow. It gets a laugh from Izzy and a smirk out of Caesar, it helps ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Conversation flows a little easier from there, Bianca bringing up stories of Caesar's multiple career choices as he grew up ranging from cowboy to pilot and more. Izzy gleefully explains her plan of becoming a 'cat doctor' and has more than a little to say on how exactly that differs from being a vet. You find yourself smiling and laughing, getting lost in good company and a truly delicious meal. Bianca shares some stories about her life with Val before the kids, she tells Caesar about her hometown that was just a bit outside of Campeche. She tells you how she learned English from her father who only learned it so he could follow baseball games over the radio.

Before you know it, Bianca has taken Izzy away to prepare for bed and you're left helping Caesar rinse the dishes and load them into a small washer.

"So, saw two of your friends on Halloween." You say, passing a plate off to him.

"Friends?"

"Yeah dumb and dumber, the brothers."

"Ohhh, those fools." He scoffs. "They stupid as hell, D."

"Trust me, I know. One of em tried to grab my gun while I was dealing with a suspect."

"Shit. You handle it?"

"I punched him in the mouth." You say casually.

"Oh shit, D! That's some gangster shit."

"He was a string bean and a teenager. Also it isn't gangster, I shouldn't have had to do that. But I let myself get distracted cause of the..." You trail off, something clicking in your head. "Caesar?"

"Whaddup?" He asks, planting a cup in the washer.

"You kinda had a role in Anarky right? I mean you had your little... crew. Or whatever."

"Shit, kinda is right... they only..." He pauses for a moment and checks over his shoulder. "If I tell you some stuff, is that like... covered under statue of limitations?"

"Statute." You correct gently. "And honestly, I'm not interested in getting you in trouble with the law. Obviously."

He sort of bounces in place and looks over his shoulder again with a concerned look.

"I'm not gonna tell your mom either." You sigh.

"Word, so do you remember when Dent was running for re-election? He put up them posters all over Gotham with him looking all serious an shit, like a general." He launches into the story in a whispered flurry.

"Yeah? I think I do but they we- Caesar... that was you?"

Caesar nods. Something like pride twinkles in his eye as he keeps the volume low.

"Yeah. That was me, it got me big street cred."

"Changing 'Harvey Dent' into 'Hairy Cunt' on some posters got you cred?"

"People hate The Man. No offense."

"Yeah, none taken. So what? Anarky approached you after that?"

"Not really, Bass Head lived at that orphanage and it had a lot of Anarky dudes there. He was kinda like... kinda like Izzy, y'know? 'Cept he didn't talk as much. I'd take the bus there and help him sneak out, I'd teach him how to tag and how to draw."

"So they approached you there?"

"I dunno about 'approached' but a guy hit me up while I was lifting some new cans. He was nice, I guess. Paid for my shit instead of me stealing it. Talked a lot about a revolution or whatever, said he liked my artist name."

"Czar."

"Yeah. Said it was dope, said I could be doing a lot more for the cause or whatever the fuck. But I was sold soon as he told me that there'd be money in it. Told him I'd do it, he introduced me to the two dudes and Bass Head just followed me into it." He stops for a moment after that and frowns. That pride being replaced by something that looks like shame. "He's good right? The lady you set him up with, she takes care of him right?"

"I'm pretty sure he's living better than me." You comment.

"Good man. Good."

"So you weren't fully IN, but those two were?"

"Yeah, they told me about this house show they went to. Like a band in a basement type of thing. That's where they got in, some place outside the college."

You had been having such a nice evening that it hadn't even occurred to you that your police brain had switched off. But the moment you hear that, there's a faint click. Gotham University, if it's not the core of this Anarky business it's at least a hub. A big one.

"Caesar... how much do you know about where they went? An address or maybe the name of the person who owned the house?"

"They just called it 'Greasy Street' or something like that." He says with a shrug. "But I also went to a few meetings, well not really meetings it was like a party in a parking lot. But I saw faces, the dude who got me in talking to a couple others. One dude was Mexican but like, preppy and the other one was a real fine chick with one of those haircuts with the shaved side and everything. I could go with you to the school and point em out!"

"What?" You say on reflex as you're broken out of a thought. "That's not necessary."

"No offense, D. But you're a bit old to be walking around a college on the low. They'll sniff you out as a pi-olice officer quick." He says. "Plus, if I help like solve a crime won't that make it easier to like apply to the police station and stuff? I could help you on some undercover type shit, D!"

>"Absolutely not, no offense Caesar but this is a dangerous situation. You know that already, you just gotta focus on helping out your mom and leave the police work to the police officers."
>"I appreciate the offer but, we've got enough probable cause to go to the college out and open. No undercover work this time."
>"I'm pretty sure I'd be fired before I could get the sales pitch out, Caesar. Sorry but the GCPD isn't gonna let a kid into harm's way even if it would help."
>"They'd never approve it, too much risk in your going to campus... but maybe we could work another angle. We could photograph our perps, show you a book and let you finger anyone you recognize as anarchy. Help separate the wheat from the chaff."
>"They'd never approve it, so that means if we did do it that it'd be off the books and quiet. They don't know we're coming yet but that could change as soon as word about the lab gets out. Just sightseeing and you pointing a few people out to me. That's it."
>Write-In

>>6351796
>"They'd never approve it, too much risk in your going to campus... but maybe we could work another angle. We could photograph our perps, show you a book and let you finger anyone you recognize as anarchy. Help separate the wheat from the chaff."
I feel like this is a fair compromise. Caesar wants to help, and this would let him do exactly that. Besides, we've got a bit of free time to ourselves. Might as well put in some legwork and see if we can set the investigators up for success.
We should definitely hit up Commander Reiner about this beforehand though. I'd rather not do this off the books and have it bite us in the ass again.

>>6351812
If we were going official and these are students their mugshot for their ID should be on file.

>>6351812
+1
We learned our lesson. We do it on the books

>>6351796
>"They'd never approve it, too much risk in your going to campus... but maybe we could work another angle. We could photograph our perps, show you a book and let you finger anyone you recognize as anarchy. Help separate the wheat from the chaff."
As the other anon said, we can just go to the school admin and ask for a copy of the image files used for student IDs, then filter it down to a manageable number and go through them with the kid.

>>6351796
>"They'd never approve it, too much risk in your going to campus... but maybe we could work another angle. We could photograph our perps, show you a book and let you finger anyone you recognize as anarchy. Help separate the wheat from the chaff."

>>6351796
>>6351812
this
Also:
"Well lets consider this a mock job test. Could you do a sketch from memory of them so we could zoom in on them faster. Would be better than just a description."

>>6351812
>>6352187
>>6351870
+1

>>6351796
These anons have great ideas.

>>6351812
>>6351863
>>6351870
>>6352064
>>6352187
>>6352229

"They'd never approve it, too much risk in your going to campus." You say with a shake of your head. Caesar visibly deflates and is already murmuring a 'thanks anyways' before you get an idea. "But... maybe we could work another angle."

"Another angle?" His head lifts and he hangs on your words.

"We could photograph our perps after we bring em in, or even just pull pictures from the campus registry. Show you and let you finger anyone you recognize as Anarky. Help separate the wheat from the chaff." You take a dish towel and dry off your hands. "We could treat it like a... mock job test. Could try a sketch from memory, better than a description and saves us from bringing you down to look at a bunch of strangers."

"Shit, I could try!" He says with a wicked grin. "I got my stuff in the room I'll be right back."

He jogs off as you start up the dishwasher. A shudder runs through you as somewhere in Gotham a man dips his fingers into coppery syrup and smears it across cold metal that reeks of exhaust. He scrawls a prayer to a false god. You blink a few times rapidly as the scent hits you and rapidly fades like the cologne of a passing stranger. Before you have time to dwell on it Caesar returns with a thick sketch pad and a cluster of pens and pencils clutched in his hand. He drops them onto the table and gets seated, planting his elbows and taking on a serious expression that poorly masks the excitement behind his eyes. You settle down opposite of him.

"Alright so how do you wanna do this? How real do you want it?"

"I can handle whatever you got, D." He says with confidence.

"If you say so..." You say quietly as you consider what to ask of him.

>"I'm gonna describe a guy I saw in a vision earlier today, guy by the name of Raul. I want you to draw him."
>"Let's test your memory. Sketch out the guy who recruited you from memory.
>"Let's start easy. Sketch me, show me you have the chops."
>"Alright, we're gonna do this legit then. You'll interview me and sketch based off the questions, so make sure you ask good ones." (Who do you want to have in mind for the sketch?)
>Write-In

>>6352691
>"I'm gonna describe a guy I saw in a vision earlier today.l. I want you to draw him."
>DON'T tell him the name

Good starting test. It's unreasonable to expect him to know what sort of questions are most useful for a sketch artist, but if he needs clarifying questions regarding Raul, that's fine.

On the off chance he knows Raul, though, don't drop the name. it might skew the results.

>>6352704
+1
Keep it simple

>>6352704
+1 here!

>>6352704
+1

>>6352704
>>6352720
>>6352742
>>6352776

"I'm gonna describe a guy I saw in a vision earlier today, I want you to draw him."

"Alright... do you want me to like? Ask about him?"

"I'll just describe him, just focus on trying to draw him."

"Alright, D. Hit me."

"Hispanic Male." You begin clinically. "Black hair, slicked back and really neat. Expensive haircut. His eyes were... dark and kinda wide."

Caesar sketches furiously, his eyes locked onto the tip of his pencil with laser focus.

"Ears were tucked back, not overly large or small, his nose was flatter but still had that triangular shape from the bridge down to the nostrils. Clear skin, no marks, tattoos, or scars. No facial hair."

"Shit slow down..." He grumbles. You don't relent.

"His head was taller than it was wide, he was a slim guy. Mouth was wide, could see most of his teeth when he smiled. Eyebrows were thick and well trimmed. Sharp chin."

"Dude." Caesar breathes, his pencil moving rapidly.

"It won't be any easier trying to coax these answers out of someone shaken up from just being mugged or worse, Caesar. Sometimes the only way they can get it out is in one big burst all at once."

"That's a shit way to do it." He comments.

"Maybe, but maybe they can only get themselves to go through it once. Now come on. You got this."

You leave him in silence for another minute or so as he sketches, erases, and gnaws on the eraser of his pencil at points. Eventually he turns the pad around and the face you see is.... generic. It looks like your run of the mill Hispanic late-teen, the eyes aren't quite symmetrical and the chin is too rounded. There's still more artistry than realism to it. But it's a good foundation.

"Not bad. Not the guy I saw fully, but on the way."

"Well you said it all at once! How was I suppos-" His voice gains some heat but he quiets when you put a hand up.

"Caesar, it's okay. You weren't going to be perfect at this your first time, there's a reason people go to college to pick up this skill. It's not something you can just do." You slide the sheet back to him. "But it's a good start."

Caesar lets out a huff and drops his pencil. He stares at the sheet for a couple seconds before looking up at you.

"Really?"

"Really. Just, focus up on whatever work they're giving you for online classes and in your free time put in some practice. The more you work at it now the easier it'll be at school."

"Aight." He says simply. "I'm gonna look up videos on Youtube, I think. Portrait videos and whatever, y'know?"

"Sounds like a plan, Caesar." You grunt as you rise from the table and push the seat in. "But your sister is in bed which means you're probably not far behind yeah?"

"Yeah, I guess." Caesar sighs after glancing at the stove clock. "When I graduate, do you think you'll have been promoted enough to like, vouch for me?"

You let out a snort and shake your head.

"Who knows." You say simply. "Get some sleep, man. I gotta work in the morning too."

"Alright, I'll see you around then, D."

Caesar posts up for a dap and you deliver. A crisp clap of your hands connecting and you give him a pat on the back before he breaks and leaves the kitchen, scooting past his mom as she appears in the doorway, craning her head to watch him head for his room. She turns back to you with a smile.

"Thank you." She says simply.

"No thanks needed, I made a promise."

"Val always said that; Lo prometido es deuda. A promise is a promise." Her smile takes on a more melancholy shape. "Val was a complicated man... but he was good. In his heart, he was a good man. Good father."

You aren't entirely sure what to say so you supplement with nods.

"Well, I'll do my best to make sure Caesar is set up so he doesn't have to resort to anything... unsavory just to support himself."

"I tried, but I was working too often and I couldn't always watch him." She takes a moment to lightly swipe at her eye. "This house arrest has actually been good for us, I think. We don't butt heads as often as we did in the beginning, he helps more around the house... do you really think it may be over soon?"

"I can't comment on an ongoing investigation, not in any meaningful way at least..." You say sadly.

"I understand." She responds, straightening up slightly. "You are probably waiting to get home yourself and I'm keeping you occupied, I'm sorry Officer."

"It's no problem at all. I actually wanted to ask you about something before I left, figured it was best to wait until the kids were away."

"Oh?"

"It's about your neighbor's across the hall. I heard that there were some... disputes? Arguments?"

"Ah, yes." She says nodding. "But they've been quiet since they visited a little bit ago."

"Visited? Ms. Welles you aren't supposed to have-"

"I didn't let them in, or even tell them my name. They actually came over to apologize."

"They? The both of them?"

"Si, they apologized for the fights and said they realized things had gotten a bit out of hand. Apparently they were both Bebedores empedernidos." She mimes a bottle to her lips. "Drinkers, you know?"

"No shit? Huh."

What settles after is a silence filled only by the faint ticking of some clock in the warm atmosphere of the apartment. You awkwardly clear your throat and gesture past her to the door.

"Should probably get home, long day tomorrow most likely."

"Of course." She says quietly stepping aside. "If anything else happens with the neighbors I'll have Caesar text you?"

"That would be great, ma'am. Have a good night." You say twisting the knob and letting the cold night air infiltrate this warm space.

=====

You nod to the officer's across the street in their car and get a gloved hand wave in return. By the time you've settled into your car and started the engine your phone is buzzing with a call, from Hawthorne. You shift into drive and pick up as you hit the main road.

"Hey, sir. What's up?"

"What's up is I finally got free of numb nuts and the drooler brigade."

"Excuse me?" You ask, almost choking on a laugh.

"That stupid bastard the believes 'The Cobra' is a real thing. When his bodies started turning up by the wagonload I gave him a one time offer. Be first in line or go to the back."

"Snitch before they snitch on you. You Darwin'd him."

"Damn right. Sang like Donna Summer too. Turns out 'Anarky' is recruiting from the University, only get this-"

"None of the kids have actually seen Anarky in person?"

"You're quick." He says. "You thinking the same thing then?"

"That Anarky might just be a name on the door to get em in? You think they're being played?"

"I think it's fuckin likely. Buncha yuppie idiots convinced they have it bad, nobody better to buy into the scam."

"What's the plan then? Have they started interrogating the others?"

"Good amount of em, got all hands on deck dealing with the load. Have to split some of em between precincts three and four because our holding isn't big enough. Reiner's more than a little happy you didn't make him look like an ass with the QRT and he's got a clear runway from city hall and Gordon to bring this home."

"Holy shit. What's that mean for us?"

"A lot of work. Dent told Gordon he wants this handled before New Years so we're on auto-approval for OT and it isn't mandatory but you better believe it's expected that we put in some off-clock work for this."

"I figured but I mean for US, personally."

"Reiner has us helping Grey out since he's focusing on the SIM Aspect and handling the limp dicks at ARGUS. A judge approved a warrant for any Kal Quincy Late property which means they need an officer to head up the teams that are gonna be sweeping town checking em out. At the same time, that moron's word and your report has got Reiner wanting someone to do a little preliminary sweep at Gotham University, see if we can't get an idea on where these Anarky kids are coming from so we can figure a way to grab it by the root."

"And you want to know what I'd prefer to work on?" You ask hopefully.

"You just might be a genius, DeLucia." He responds sarcastically. "Grey wrangled both Kimble and I into it, I figured I'd work the college and Kimble can help out with the store sweeps."

>"Works for me, I'll come with you to the college. I have a bit of a secret weapon we might be able to use."
>"I'll help Kimble with the sweeps, the faster we can get to Calc the faster we can wrap this up."
>"No offense but, you're a bit old to be wandering a college, sir. Maybe Kimble should accompany me."
>"You missed out on the raid chasing the Anarky angle, how about you and I conduct some sweeps and Kimble takes the college?"
>Write-In

Do we pursue the college angle and follow up with what we just fucking told Caesar? Or do we stay on Calc's ass with his properties?

>>6353051
>"Works for me, I'll come with you to the college. I have a bit of a secret weapon we might be able to use."

Just a thought, but... I've noticed quite a few of the big names involved with Calc's plan are involved because he has something that he can use against him. Scarecrow being forced to wear his self gassing suit. Anarky's lieutenants being unable to see their boss in person, despite his "lead from the front" tendencies. Mandragora's kidnapped kid used as leverage to cooperate with Penguin and the other mobsters... So, what's the Sword of Damocles hanging over The Hatter? And was that hat that was meant for us a way to talk to us rather than to make us a puppet to kill someone?

>>6353051
>"I'll help Kimble with the sweeps, the faster we can get to Calc the faster we can wrap this up."

>>6353051
>>"Works for me, I'll come with you to the college. I have a bit of a secret weapon we might be able to use."

>>6353067
>>6353157
>>6353158
Why go for one over the other? I'm stuck between deciding these two. What made you guys vote for what you did?

>>6353170
Anybody working the campus is gonna be conspicuous, Be it Kimble or Hawthorne, there's no getting around it.
With that in mind, I'd rather have Kimble heading up the store sweeps as that's where he'd probably be the most helpful. They should have enough to go on to avoid any booby traps and scope out hidden evidence without us.
As for having Mark go to the college specifically, we just suggested we'd do as much to Caesar, not to mention we're one of the few officers involved in this case who could conceivably pass as a college student.

>>6353158
+1
>>6353170
While I also want to stay on top of Calc, with Caesar and a dollop of Shivers we can make more of an impact on the overall case at the college. Kimble is a skilled officer, we can rely on him to make progress with the layup we've given him doing the groundwork on Calc.

>>6353175
>>6353193
Okay then, thanks for the explanations guys

>>6353051
>"Works for me, I'll come with you to the college. I have a bit of a secret weapon we might be able to use."

File: FE7977FB-524F-484F-B329-1(...).jpg (92 KB, 1170x1076)

92 KB JPG

Just wanted to wish those in the thread a happy New Year's before I inevitably forget and sleep through it.

>>6353318
Happy new year anon, and happy new year to everyone here, also happy new year DetectQM, for another crazy year of this amazing quest

But I wanna wish a happy new year specially to you, yes, YOU, the person that's reading this :)

>>6353170
I went with the college option because I felt like hanging out with Hawthorne, and if we need to be sneaky, it would be pretty easy to fake being an older college student since Mark's is somewhere in his mid twenties.

Wonder if GCPD will ever get sued because mark's abilities are an invasion of privacy. Or maybe it's allowed it's for an investigation.

>>6353774
As I recall, the language surrounding "invasions of privacy" in that part of the country are mostly concerned with whether or not you saw somebody engaging in a sex act where they had a reasonable expectation of privacy otherwise. With that in mind, I'm pretty sure we're good to go so long as we don't use our powers to watch reruns of people fucking in the privacy of their own homes.
That said, the legislation around using our powers to do our job is new, and therefore probably vague as fuck. That could help us or hurt us if we ever have to go to court, so it might not be a bad idea to look into lawyers that specialize in Criminal Law and Metahumans.

>>6353067
>>6353158
>>6353193
>>6353196

"Works for me, I'll come with you to the college. I have a bit of a secret weapon we might be able to use."

"Don't be cute. We're nearing the finish line."

"Caesar, apparently his intro to Anarky was at the college. He's seen some faces of guys who were leading the push for recruitment, I was thinking we could have him look over our POI list and see if any faces jump out."

"Works for me." Hawthorne says simply. "I'll take whatever we can get on this."

"You sound impatient, why the rush?"

"Son is visiting for new years and I'd prefer not to have work to juggle with him around."

"Oh shit, that's great! Is he coming just for New Years Day or-"

"It's the week of Christmas is all, he lands Christmas morning and heads back on the second. It's not a big deal, just uh.."

"Just what, sir? This is good news."

"Eh, we'll talk about it tomorrow." He says stiffly before muttering to himself. "It's damn late."

"Understood, I'll be in early to get the shop together. We'll knock it out before lunch."

"Understood, see you then." He says before unceremoniously hanging up.

====

Another dreamless night prefaced by texting with Allison about a potential dinner with your parents. Not anytime soon but, when the case is finally cleared up... maybe.

The early morning air cuts through the blue dyed wool of your uniform shirt, even piercing that lingering warmth from a hot shower that you cling to. You roll your shoulder and shake off the final bits of ache that still cling to your joints. Your belt feels lighter without your weapon, your duty 'medically restricted' until your blood test comes back clean, but that doesn't bother you one bit as you close the trunk and step back.

"Ready for our 'inspection', rook?" Hawthorne asks from over your shoulder, handing you a flimsy coffee cup filled nearly to the brim with oil black coffee.

"Ready as I can be." You reply, taking a sip. "Never knew the GCPD ran the resource officer program for Gotham U."

"Eh." Hawthorne grunts. "Run is a strong word. We have a program for elderly officers or special cases, we vouch for em so the university doesn't have to deal with private security schmucks."

"Ahhh, I get it. That's your plan then?" You ask, cranking the key. "You'll fit right in as the old retired cop coming to work on campus."

"Yeah? You think my foot'll fit right in your ass? Maybe jammed down your neck?"

"But you gotta set a good example for your son!" You protest, laughing as you turn onto the road.

"I'll throw this coffee in your goddamn face, rook, I ain't joking."

"Alright, alright." You begrudge through chuckles. "When we get there whadda we do?"

"Check in at the front office, get visitor passes, then we have free reign of the campus. Officially, we're there to do a walk through looking for any security issues and also we'll pick up the yearly reviews for the Resource Officers. Those usually get rubber stamped anyways."

"Sounds simple enough."

"It's basically a holiday to get assigned for inspection, Bunko and Chen handle it usually."

"So once we get there I'm guessing it's on me to decide where we poke around?"

"I really do think you're picking up the whole police officer thing quicker than most." He says dryly as he drains the still steaming coffee. "Yes. Seeing as you're barely out of diapers in my eyes I think it's best you take lead at the college."

>"We start where everything happens, the common areas. It'll serve as a good temperature check, see who gets nervous when the cops are visible."
>"We go where everything actually happens, what's the closest bar to the campus with less than three stars online? The kind that wouldn't look too hard at a fake ID."
>"We should start with the office, pull records of anyone with disciplinary issues and start there."
>"Maybe we start with frats and the club spaces? If you were looking to recruit then it makes sense to go after people already looking for a place to fit in. Or to be there as the net for the ones that don't.
>Write-In

>>6353783
>>"Maybe we start with frats and the club spaces? If you were looking to recruit then it makes sense to go after people already looking for a place to fit in. Or to be there as the net for the ones that don't.

>>6353783
>"Maybe we start with frats and the club spaces? If you were looking to recruit then it makes sense to go after people already looking for a place to fit in. Or to be there as the net for the ones that don't.
No idea where we’ll start, though. Little Pink clubs on college campuses are a dime a dozen.

>>6353783
>"Maybe we start with frats and the club spaces? If you were looking to recruit then it makes sense to go after people already looking for a place to fit in. Or to be there as the net for the ones that don't.
Find some information for art and law classes for Caesar, perhaps some photography too. Couldn't hurt.

Do we need to be officially in uniform or could we go in and pose as a college kid.

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34 KB JPG

>>6353857
I don't think we look young enough to pull a 21 Jump Street, lol... Do we?

>>6353783
>"We go where everything actually happens, what's the closest bar to the campus with less than three stars online? The kind that wouldn't look too hard at a fake ID."
Social revolutionaries and ideologues love bars. Anti-establishment types are less likely to like frats, methinks.

>>6353916
+1

Every campus has a crummy bar with a dealer that sells $80 grams of coke to anyone that asks. Even if the Anarkiddies aren't regulars, someone there will have a solid lead, but I think at least a couple of them hang around.

Frats is definitely a cold move, clubs too, the people that go to those places to 'fit in' are normies, preps, ideologically opposed to anarchy, financially stable, more well adjusted. The REAL outcasts and radicals don't go there to find their place.

>>6353928
Couldn't we just leverage our weed dealer?

>>6354105
I doubt Wisdom the Hippie is tight with the real hardcore violent anarchist scene. They'll want something stronger.

>>6353916
I'm sure we could easily pull off a "GI bill".

>>6353916
+1

>>6353787
>>6353837
>>6353852

"Maybe we start with the frats and the club spaces? If you were looking to recruit then it makes sense to go after people already looking for a place to fit in. Or to be there as the net for the ones that don't."

"Eh. Sure." He offers.

"Sure? Something wrong with my plan?"

"Just don't figure the pansies Anarky recruits are the type for a fraternity or any of that shit. These kids are raging against their mama for asking em to do dishes, they don't wanna get into all the hierarchy bullshit of a fraternity."

"I get where you're coming from but when I was in college all the 'weird' kids or whatever usually ended up in some kind of club. There was even a communist... marxist... thing that people joined. The point is, people are paying to go here for the most part. They wanna find a place to fit in while here."

"I don't know. In my day if you wanted to find a place to fit in you'd go to the closest dive bar and get to know two or three guys over darts, pool, and liquor. Then you'd meet every weekend and do it again."

"So you're saying we should scope out a bar?"

"I'm not saying shit. This is your show, rook. You can run it wrong all you want."

"Since you're so confident about that how about we do both? Whichever one gets us the bigger lead wins."

"Loser buys a case of beer." Hawthorne grunts.

"You're on."

=====

You step out of the warm shelter of your shop into the cold grey parking lot outside the admin building. Students mill around moving in and out of the smaller wings that flank the main building. Hawthorne steps inside with a smile and extends a hand to a security officer who stands by the door.

"Harry." He says simply. "How the hell are ya?"

"Living the dream." The elderly officer chuckles.

"Kid, you go ahead. I'm gonna catch up here for a second. Just grab the reports from the desk and ask the receptionist for help finding anything."

"Yes, sir." You answer promptly before heading inside, the last things you hear from them being:

"Your rookie?"

"Yep. He's a good egg, bit green but he's got the hea-"

The door hisses closed behind you as you click your shoes across freshly mopped tile. A kindly looking woman at her desk gives you a smile and holds up a folder for a moment.

"I assume you're one of the officers doing today's inspection?"

"Yes, ma'am. Officer DeLucia and Officer Hawthorne."

She clacks at her keyboard and squints at her computer screen before nodding once and giving you a full smile as she hands over the file.

"Here you go. I included a map of the campus in there since this is your first time doing inspection. The administration building closes at three and most of the student recreation areas close at the same time."

"Oh, do the inspections usually go on so long? It's still morning."

"Some officers are more thorough than others." She chirps. "Now unless there's something else I could help you with..."

"There is actually. Can you point me to where most of the clubs and fraternities pick up new members?"

"The Rec-Hall is where you want to go, they usually have some stands on the weekend or the community board." She smiles. "Anything else?"

"No, ma'am. You have a good day."

You step back outside to Hawthorne writing something in his notepad and tucking it into his pocket before giving a hearty handshake to the senior guard.

"Appreciate ya, Harry. Say hello to Sasha for me."

"Will do, Mitch. You get one for me."

"Oh I will, the kid's buying." Hawthorne calls over his shoulder as he sidles up to you. "You get what you need?"

"Yup, Rec-Hall. You?"

"Address of the place all the burnouts drink. Porky's."

"We'll fit right in then." You quip.

Hawthorne gives a genuine laugh at that handing you the torn piece of paper with the address before he secures his hat firmly.

"Let's get to it, I want that beer."

The campus is surprisingly active, the month before Christmas means a lot of last minute rushing before going home. Your own mind drifts back to your time in school on the west coast, holidays were always extra stressful for you with cross country flights. You shudder as questioning voices swirl around you like leaves in a windstorm, questions of the future and internal doubts. You shake them off easily, you dealt with them just fine over your years in school. But not enough to stop yourself from zoning out as you feel an elbow tap your side and suddenly you're being embraced by the heating inside a hall with a high-ceiling.

"Hey." Hawthorne says gruffly. "I asked you a question."

"Sorry, sir. I was just uh, reminiscing."

"Stow it for now. I asked where you wanna start in here."

You glance around at a small set of booths, maybe three or four with small groups talking casually. Behind it is a massive corkboard with posters and various papers. One of which has a striking color scheme... yellow and red.

>"The Frats, more specifically we ask about rejected members."
>"That corkboard back there, I think I spy a hammer and sickle."
>"We shouldn't be looking at the booths. We should look at the people doing the recruiting, the ones not behind a booth."
>Write-In

>>6354157
>"We shouldn't be looking at the booths. We should look at the people doing the recruiting, the ones not behind a booth."

>>6354157
>"The Frats, more specifically we ask about rejected members."
If the Frat angle pays dividends, this will be how it does so, IMO.

>>6354157
>"That corkboard back there, I think I spy a hammer and sickle."
Perfect, communists are the natural enemies of anarchists, like fascists and anarchists, or liberals and anarchists, or liberals and communists, or communists and communists!
And the loudest most annoying communist organizer probably has a Twitter feed full of callouts about at least one member of Anarky. Thank you CIA!

>>6354157
>>"We shouldn't be looking at the booths. We should look at the people doing the recruiting, the ones not behind a booth."

>>6354157
>>"We shouldn't be looking at the booths. We should look at the people doing the recruiting, the ones not behind a booth."

>>6354234
>>6354292
>>6354767

"We shouldn't be looking at the booths. We should look at the people doing the recruiting, the ones not behind a booth." You say casting a gaze over the crowd, an action that's swiftly stopped by Hawthorne pulling a file from your hands and opening it.

"Easy with the eyes junior. You'll scare the fish." He murmurs before raising his voice and pointing to a few spaces on the ceiling. Surveillance cameras. "Camera's looking operational?"

"Yes, sir. No obstructions, good coverage..." You play along before leaning in. "Any reason for the performance?"

"Just a hunch..." Hawthorne says before motioning you closer as he points to nothing in particular.

"Did you see something?" You ask quietly pretending to study the file with him.

"Got a buddy, a lot like the guard here. Retired cops or medical reasons. One of em works in Loss Prevention at Gotham mall."

"Alright?"

"He told me once about his trick for shoplifters. He'd stand right in the open and they'd give themselves away. Just like when a pickpocket bumps a fella and watches where he checks for the wallet... someone hiding something on em... tends to have tells."

His hand points to a distant corner with a small black dome on the ceiling. He drops his voice to barely above a whisper.

"Right under this one. Since he saw us that left hand of his has been jammed in his pocket."

"Good eye, did you see what he stuck in there?"

"It was yellow and he's real squirrely about it, shifting around."

You both turn around, giving him your backs as you feign another look around.

"Think he could bolt?" You ask.

"You're starting to learn the right questions, DeLucia. He reads like a runner to me. Lucky for us."

"Lucky? You looking to step up your cardio?"

"Lesson time. What's a runner do? They run. If they can't run their legs..."

"They'll run their mouths?"

"Thatta boy." He offers with only a tinge of condescension. "Now go talk to em."

"What? Me?"

"Mhm. If he runs you'll catch him."

"If I don't?"

"I'll be by the door with a baton reserved for his knees."

"And if he takes the fire escape?"

Hawthorne tenses his jaw for a moment and narrows his eyes. He sits on that for a few seconds before closing the folder and giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Don't let'em." He says simply.

"Don't let him?"

He nods once before he takes a step backwards and closes the folder. "I'll be by the door."

You sigh and try not to make it too obvious that you're going to approach him, instead keeping your eyes upwards pretending to scope out more of the space casually. Slowly but surely you make your way to him and Hawthorne was right, you can see the micro-shuffles he takes to make space. The way he rotates to keep his left side away from you, he's telegraphing in a way that's almost painfully obvious. You straighten up a bit and, after you make sure you're between him and the fire exit, you catch his eye and make a decision on your approach.

>Wield your authority. Play at already knowing what he's up to and that it's better to just give it up now and save himself the trouble.
>Be Mr. Nice Cop. Build a little rapport, ask him about his time at the school, then gently blindside him with what you know.
>Play the long game. Anarky and it's associates don't have the best view on police. Play into it by being the bumbling cop who's getting a bit too close. Spook him with some slip of the tongue info and see where who the runner runs to to spill the beans.
>Write-In (Encouraged)

>>6355375
>Be Mr. Nice Cop. Build a little rapport, ask him about his time at the school, then gently blindside him with what you know.

>>6355375
>Play the long game. Anarky and it's associates don't have the best view on police. Play into it by being the bumbling cop who's getting a bit too close. Spook him with some slip of the tongue info and see where who the runner runs to to spill the beans.
Anarkists are going to be ACAB. They won't trust an Officer Friendly.

>>6355624
+1

>>6355624
I thought the idea was not to let him get away?
If he goes for the fire escape we might lose him, if he goes through the front door he's going to get stopped by Hawthorne. Do we have people ready to quietly tail him?

>>6355685
We don't want him to escape us. If we can tail him, he didn't really get away.

>>6355624
>>6355636

"Excuse me, sir?" You start innocently enough, putting on your best disarming style.

"Hm?" He grunts, still half turned from you.

"Sorry to bother you but I'm here doing a safety inspection for the university, making sure the guards on campus and the security here is up to par."

"Oh, uh, yeah things are pretty good."

"You feel safe on campus then? Like a scale of 1-10 where would you say?"

"I dunno man..." He turns to face you a bit more now, his shoulders less tense as he takes in how young you are.

"Can you think about it?" You glance over your shoulder at Hawthorne and then back to the kid. "My supervisor is really on my case to do this right man, I'm just a rookie. Could you help me out? Just pick a number."

He sighs and shrugs.

"I guess like a seven?"

"And could you just give me a reason for that? Like a suggestion or something?"

"I don't know, man. I gotta class soon so-"

"I understand totally. I'll just put down more cameras and uh..." Another glance to Hawthorne. "You seem like a good kid, so maybe you could help me out with one other thing?"

"Dude." He says flatly, you can see it in the way he eyes you now. You're an annoyance, not a threat. The fear is reserved for Hawthorne now, tension visible in this kid every time you turn back from glancing at him.

"Sorry, sir. You're absolutely right. It was a longshot anyways you don't seem like the Anarky type."

His pupils swell as you see a nervous swallow drag down his throat, but you play oblivious and mirror the expression as he repeats back to you:

"Anarky?"

"Fuck." You groan. "Forget I said anything, please. I really-"

"Is something going on?" He asks, his voice is tight and dry.

"Nothing you need to get worried about we've just gotten some tips about some things potentially on campus and- I really shouldn't even be saying this to you. Look, I appreciate your help with my inspection but I oughta get out of your hair. Can you please not say anything to anyone? We don't wanna scare anybody and it would get me in a lot of trouble."

"Sure thing, bro. I won't say nothin."

"Thanks." You sigh with a wide smile. "I appreciate that, now I'm gonna head out front and check a few things out there, you have a good day now."

You walk off and head for Hawthorne, he raises a brow and you just nod towards the door. He follows you back into the windy gloom.

"You working an angle?" He asks simply.

"Mhm, told him we'd be camped out front here for a bit. I let slip that we're looking into Anarky and he got tense. Scared."

"So you walked away?"

"Figured we could tail him wherever he runs off. Bought us some time saying we'd be out here, probably too shaken to run past us. Gives us time to find a good spot to wait."

"That's a gamble." Hawthorne grumbles.

"My gut says it's worth the wait, just to see."

"Good news is we won't need to drive the shop after him. Kid doesn't drive."

"How do you know?"

"No lanyard for keys. no bulge in the pocket aside from the one he was hiding from us, shoes are worn to hell and scuffed badly. Means he's walking in em often and probably can't afford to replace em. No job, no cash, no car."

"You pick some things up from Grey?" You tease.

"Nope. This is stuff you'll learn the longer you work, how to size someone up. It's gut feeling for now, but the more work you put in the more you'll be able to describe it. You'll have to."

"I'll have to?"

"For reports. 'I stopped the kid because I had a bad feeling about him' is a nice way to get a case thrown out. You need to be able to verbalize your suspicion and explain your thought process to a superior... or a jury."

"Well, we're about to have some time to talk about it."

"Ha. Guess so." He grunts.

====

"Kids these days stuck to their fuckin phones." Hawthorne grumbles as you both walk slowly down the sidewalk. "If he could get his face out of that thing for ten seconds maybe this'd be a challenge. Much further and we'll be off the fucking campus."

You both pause at a corner you watched him turn, giving it a good fifteen or so seconds before you peer around it and spot him halfway to the next corner with his face still buried in his phone with his fingers flying.

"Sorry, you WANT him to catch us?"

"Don't get fresh with me, rook. I just feel like an asshole taking all these precautions when he wouldn't notice a Jeep if it ran over his toes."

You make it to the next corner and wait again. Hawthorne's finger taps impatiently on his holster. You silently count and then peer around the corner to see... nothing. Or at least no sign of your tail. You resist the urge to panic and instead focus on scoping out the area for anywhere he could have gone and then you spot it and sigh. A chalkboard tented on the sidewalk like a wet floor sign.

'TONIGHT: WC and The Roadrunners! Only at PORKY'S'

You lean back around the corner and glance at Hawthorne.

"He went into a bar."

"Oh really?" Hawthorne asks, a wicked grin hitting the corner of his mouth. He glances at a sign on the corner and shakes his head. "Porky's. I told ya, rook. It's always the bar. You owe me a beer."

"Well technically, I found him on campus. He just came here after the fact..."

"I'll explain why you're wrong when we wrap up here. But now we got a question."

"Do we go in?"

"Or do we wait em out?"

>"Let's go in, we can handle some rowdy teens and it'll catch em off guard to have cops on their home turf."
>"We wait it out, bar closes eventually. You can get the shop and we can find somewhere discreet to snap some pictures, see if Caesar can ID anyone."
>"Place like this has to have a back door for receiving stock right? Why don't we knock and convince the bartender to let us linger in the back, see if we can't listen in a bit on the room?"
>Write-In

>>6355743
>>"Place like this has to have a back door for receiving stock right? Why don't we knock and convince the bartender to let us linger in the back, see if we can't listen in a bit on the room?"
We go in now, we risk spooking him again and he takes his accomplices with him. Let's get in without ruffling any feathers and see what we can see before we crash the party.

>>6355743
>"We wait it out, bar closes eventually. You can get the shop and we can find somewhere discreet to snap some pictures, see if Caesar can ID anyone."
Stakeout time!

>>6355744
+1

>>6355744
>>6356047

"Place like this has to have a back door for receiving stock, right? Why don't we knock and convince the bartender to let us linger in the back, see if we can't listen in a bit on the room?"

"What makes you think he's gonna be 'convinced' of anything? He probably knows his clientele."

"Then he also knows if we catch even a single underaged drinker in that bar we can have his liquor license."

"Look at you, playing hardball. But I got a method of my own." Hawthorne says with an approving grin. Ho nods and leads the way as you both slip into an alley.

The first thing that hits is an acrid scent of piss and liquor. Hawthorne sighs contentedly and glances around the alley with a small smile but you see his eyes are as focused as ever. Eventually he holds out an arm to stop you and then points.

"That one there says Porky's. I'll knock, let me do the talking."

"Sure thing, wanna let me in on your method?"

"It's simple. People tend to take my threats seriously."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, babyface."

"Fuck you." You with faux hurt. "Maybe it's just respect for an elder. That's why they talk to you."

"Uh-huh." Hawthorne grunts as he steps past an overflowing dumpster to stand before the door. He clenches his fist and brings it down twice. Hard.

A few seconds pass before the door opens and a short portly man with a flat nose peeks his head out. His beady eyes dart between you and Hawthorne as he's beckoned out of the shop. Hawthorne doesn't stoop despite the clear size difference, if anything he seems to be lording it over him, despite his aggressive posture Hawthorne speaks lightly. So lightly in fact you struggle to hear him over the sounds of the city bouncing off the walls of the alley. You swallow and taste the bitter burn of a shot followed by something salty and savory... peanuts?

"DeLucia." Hawthorne's firm voice pulls you out of your own head as the strange taste dissipates.

You step forward and nod to the shopkeeper.

"Mr. Bergen here has agreed to let us in the back here. Right?"

"Yes, sir. Anything for the police!" He chuckles nervously.

You follow Hawthorne as he steps inside. The stinging smell of liquor remains while the piss smell vanishes, but it's replaced by the chemical odor of urinal cakes instead. You lean close to Hawthorne and whisper.

"What'd you say to him?"

"Turns out he hosts poker games here on the weekends, he's pretty deep in the hole and I offered to clear the debt up for him."

"How?"

"School Officer I talked to is an old buddy, I helped him get the gig. He owed me and Bergen owed him. Therefore. Bergen owed me."

The narrow hallway is lit by dim and dying light tubes. Blue stretches across the wall like grasping fingers coming from the neon sign. A low murmur of conversation grows louder as you approach the end of this hall and corner that leads to the open bar floor. You hear a clack as, what you assume to be, pool balls collide and scatter. The little man turns around and holds up his stubby fingered hands.

"Th- tha- tha- that's all, folks." He says. "Go any further and someone might see you. If someone has to piss this is also the way to the bathroom, that's all I can do for you."

"That'll do." Hawthorne says simply. "Just go serve drinks like normal, we won't cause a fuss. Scout's honor."

The round bartender sputters a few more words of caution before he rounds the corner and vanishes. You only risk peering a single eye around it yourself. The bar isn't packed but it has a healthy amount of customer's for a weekday. You can tell just by looking that half the people in here can't be over twenty-one, you let your eye drag over each one slowly until you spot a familiar face. Two actually.

"Sir." You whisper quietly. "I see the kid we talked with."

"And?"

You peek again and freeze.

"And he's talking to someone I saw in a vision at the toxin lab. Raul."

The pair are too far for you to make out their conversation but it's energetic, at least on the side of the younger boy. Raul stays relaxed, holding a bottle by it's rim as he leans on a counter by the front window. A clenched hand of post-it notes are being shaken in his face and the entire time he wears a grin that reads equal parts amusement and condescension. He gently takes the post-it notes and sets them aside before putting his bottle on them like a coaster. He loops an arm around the younger man's shoulders and speaks to him. Whatever he's saying, it doesn't land, as the younger man shakes his head and lightly shoves Raul away. Your legs tense up as you get ready to move, if a fight breaks out you'll have no choice but to step in. But to your surprise that doesn't happen. Instead Raul raises his hand in a peaceful gesture, only not to the one who shoved him, but a different boy standing to the side. Large, blond, and wearing a varsity jacket. The longer you look at him the more you smell oranges and a faint ache begins to creep in. Another small exchange of words take place but this time you hear the response of the younger boy clearly.

"Go fuck yourself, man!"

He turns and shoves the door open, drawing a few heads which all look to Raul. He stares coolly at the door as it clicks shut before picking up his beer and screwing his face up into a frown as he tosses the now sopping post-it notes into a garbage can by the front door.

"See anything?" Hawthorne asks.

"Some sort of fight between our guy and Raul. He was stashing sticky notes in his pocket, Raul trashed em."

"We can pick em up later then, what else?"

"Most of the people in here looked to Raul when it went down. He has muscle too, football player."

"Muscle." Hawthorne scoffs. "They're children, rook."

You grunt in reply as you peer again and see Raul take up a seat at an empty table, he nurses his beer and stares at the door while the jock busies himself with the game on TV.

"We making a move or learning anything here?" Hawthorne asks, needling your patience just a hair.

"Trying." You hiss.

>This isn't working. Police tactics won't cut it here, you need to lpay to your strengths. Use your Shivers on Raul.
>This isn't working. Police tactics won't cut it here, you need to lpay to your strengths. Use your Shivers on the jock.
>"We can't just wait back here anymore. We can blindside Raul, right now. Have a little chat with him at his table."
>"He looks like he's waiting for someone. We just need to see who, maybe get a photo for Caesar."
>Ask Gotham a question directly. (Urban Augury)
>Write-In

>>6356104
>"He looks like he's waiting for someone. We just need to see who, maybe get a photo for Caesar."

Did we fuck up? It sounds like we fucked up

>>6356103
>a short portly man with a flat nose peeks his head out. His beady eyes dart between you and Hawthorne
>"Th- tha- tha- that's all, folks."
>bar is named Porky's
Hehehehehehehe

>>6356147
I think the situation is salvageable, but frats and school clubs definitely were not the right place to sniff out disaffected radicals and petty criminals; we had to give away the game a bit in order to get lead to the spot where we probably should have started.

>>6356104
>This isn't working. Police tactics won't cut it here, you need to lpay to your strengths. Use your Shivers on Raul.
We've already had some psychic contact with him so I think maybe a little bit of Shivering will produce something that could give us an edge.
While we are using our powers, we should tell Hawthorne to keep an eye on Raul and the jock, and snap us out of it if we need to roll, or intervene if something happens like Raul clearing out. We really need to arrest him before he leaves the bar imo, and ideally we will snag that kid we spooked earlier so he doesn't blow what's left of our cover. Might have to just eat shit on that one. But with Raul's brother detained we have justification to take in Raul - he's an obvious 'known associate', we just observed an exchange that would grant probable cause separately, and if we can interrogate him, we can use the Intel we've already psychically gathered PLUS the leverage of arresting his brother at the lab to get a confession.

>>6356187
+1

>>6356104

>>6356187
+1 this then

>>6356187
>>6356342
>>6356385

"I'm gonna use my shivers." You state quietly. "Keep an eye on the guy at the empty table by the door. Hispanic, dark hair, polo shirt. Keep one on another at the bar, varsity jacket and big, if something happens do whatever you have to to wake me up."

"I'll slap you silly if I need'ta." Hawthorne promises, taking your position as he groans into a crouch to peer around the corner.

You take the rear position and slide down the wall until you're sitting. You shift slightly as you get comfortable and start your breathing exercises to clear your mind and keep you focused. Focused on Raul. On more than just who he is. That rushing current you've seen before, that you've touched, that you've let nearly consume you. You've experienced enough of it to know that it exists in layers. You don't use your shivers to try and look into who Raul is. You peel the layers until you get to WHAT he is.

Then you blink.

Dress shoes dangling at eye level. The cuff of pleated slacks connected to them. Eyes traveling upwards, ignoring all warning. The creak of tired wood and strained rope.

Then you blink.

The taste of salt on your lips. Wet streaks carving hot paths through the cold skin of your cheeks. A growing pressure like your lungs might pop.

Then you blink.

Goldenrod and Gladiolus, they're petals gently touching. The dim Gotham sun reflecting off the glass as it rests on the polished surface of a headstone.

'Michael Araya'

A smaller hand clenches your pinky and ring finger. But you don't look, the world is already blurry.

Then you blink and feel the tear break free and again you taste salt... sea salt. You hear the gulls. You smell brine and algae. You feel anger. A black rage that flickers behind cool skin. The heat unable to be doused, fueled by... hope? A voice echoes in your mind:

'A proposition to honor your father...'

You grit your teeth and through force of will you pull yourself back. Forcing your eyes open even when it feels like the skin is ripping away in tattered shreds. Salt stings your eyes as you stare out over a moonlit sea and an old sign encrusted with salt spray and graffiti reads simply: Amusement Mile.

File: AmuMile.png (1006 KB, 1598x668)

1006 KB PNG

The scene before you rips like shorn fabric as you're violently grabbed by the collar. The sensation sends a pulse of nausea out from your gut like a sonar ping that raises every goosebump on you. Your vision swims and swings so violently that you can't make out a single thing and then you're stuffed into darkness before a mass slams into your body pushing all the air out of your lungs.

"Sorry, rook." Hawthorne whispers. "Someone is fixing to piss."

"Where?" You manage to gasp in a hushed tone.

"Closet. Not much space."

"No... shit..." You grumble.

You both tense as heavy footsteps grow and then slowly fade past you. You both wait a few more seconds until the creaking hinge of the bathroom door closing spurs Hawthorne to open the closet door and mercifully remove his weight from your body.

You follow on legs that are still a touch unsteady. Bracing yourself on the wall for a moment as Hawthorne leans in.

"What'd you see? Talk fast."

"Right uh..." You groan, rubbing your head. "Saw a lot, he's reminiscing on something or... it just sits on his mind. But I saw a place, somewhere he feels safe. Amusement Mile."

"The Mile?" Hawthorne asks. "The mile's been abandoned since Gordon's..."

"I saw the sign, by the boardwalk."

"That means it's inside past the fences, you sure it was recent?"

"Sign looked decrepit. I'd guess so."

"So now what?" Hawthorne probes.

You sit on that for a moment. Good question...

>"We have to take Raul in now, we can use the fact he's related to the kid I caught in the sewers to do it. We pump him for more info on Amusement Mile at the station."
>"We leave and pass this along. We grab people now maybe it scrambles the Anarkists, maybe Amusement Mile is a bigger deal than we think and scattering em to the wind hurts us."
>"Nothing yet. We still don't know who he's waiting on, I don't really want to hide in that closet again but... we do what we gotta do."
>"I'm tired of leading the way, what's your gut telling you?"
>Write-In

>>6356476
Hmmmm I wasn't thinking that Raul may be high enough up on the chain to cause a panic, or at least a readjustment, if he got scooped, but that makes sense. That other kid might already do so, but I am thinking maybe he failed to convince Raul there was a problem.

I'm kind of split. If we arrest him, we will have enough leverage to get some valuable intel, which I feel sure he knows, and we might just be saving his life.

Mmm yaknow I think Mark has been busting ass and overall lining things up very nicely. Let's take advantage of Hawthorne's considerable experience - he's been flexing it nonstop since we got to campus, right? I think he would've struggled to get all these same variables in place (Raul, his brother, knowing about the shipments, Amusement Mile, etc), but with them in hand, I trust him to make a good decision, maybe even the best one possible.

>"I'm tired of leading the way, what's your gut telling you?"
Maybe more
>"If we detain Raul over there now, it could spook his crew, but we have his brother and can lean on either one with partial immunity for the other. Either of them could know something about Amusement Mile we need to know first, or they could know about something bigger... But I think the Mile might be where he was recruited, it might be where a lot of them are hanging their hats, might even be a place to find Calculator. Let's decide this together. Should we scoop the kid before we leave campus, or just take this lead back to the station and have campus police maintain some kind of eye on him?"

>>6356519
+1
Mark did plenty, let's throw the old dog a bone

>>6356519
+1, he was right about the bar and about how to get in. We each have our strengths.

>>6356615
Right, was thinking about him coaching us on the kid's shoes, also. We compliment each other very well as officers - Mark is able to glean things a normal human can't with their own sensory perception. Hawthorne is able to glean things that a normal human COULD - if they possessed his exceptionally honed skills to do so. Asking him to take the wheel like this is the best way for us to develop those same skills, and with our insights he can do some A1 police work in a fraction of the time.

>>6356474
>"I'll slap you silly if I need'ta."
I do enjoy how everyone is just used to Mark's specialist role now. Like "Ah, yeah, the oracle cop, yeah, sometimes you gotta shake him awake, but he gets good info." Kimble and SWAT guy bants about him were funny too.
>>6356476
>>"We have to take Raul in now, we can use the fact he's related to the kid I caught in the sewers to do it. We pump him for more info on Amusement Mile at the station."
Get him to the station, "I saw you do it" in columbo's voice gotta spook him enough to crack at least a bit. Mark can give a real Big Brother scare sometimes.
Actually, the assassination attempts on Mark are gonna go crazy in a year or two. If I was a mobster and I knew that one cop only needs one of my items or a place I've been to to literally see into the past is scary. Keeping your phone away won't save you anymore, the GCPD is watching.

Just having Hawthorne lead now is good too, we had to spend 2 extra updates because we made a wrong choice

>>6356519
>>6356610
>>6356615
>>6356636

"I can't lie to you... I'm tired of leading the way." You begin, Hawthorne lets out a small laugh at that as you continue. "What's your gut telling you? You were right about the bar being a good lead, maybe I need to learn how to think like you do a bit more."

"C'mon." Hawthorne says lightly. Leading you to the same back door you came in.

The stink of the alley is as oppressive as ever. Hawthorne leads and pulls his radio from his belt.

"I mighta been right about this, but I've been wrong about plenty. That's the lesson I'm gonna teach you right now, earlier than I learned it." He dials the frequency and lifts it to his face, finger hovering over the button. "GCPD is an organization, no man's an island."

The button clicks and Hawthorne speaks clearly and firmly:

"Dispatch, this is 1-Adam-0. 10-40 on Officer Kimble, probably gonna have to reach him over his desk extension."

"10-4, 1-Adam-0. Looking into that now."

Hawthorne keeps walking as he waits, glancing over his shoulder at you.

"I need you to go back to the college lot and grab the shop. Bring it back here, I'll meet you at the corner."

"But isn't that a bit conspicuous?"

"That's the point this time." He states before the radio interrupts him.

"10-40 is confirmed, stay safe 1-Adam-0."

"Appreciate it, Dispatch. Over and out." He tucks the radio and fishes in his pocket, producing his phone the moment it begins to ring. He answers on speaker phone. "Kimble."

"What's up, boss?"

"You still handling the paperwork from your field-trip with QRT?"

"That's one word for it. Nearly done at least, why?"

"Get an unmarked and grab a second. Head for Amusement Mile and sit tight."

"Watching or intercepting?"

"Watching. One of em is gonna be a young Hispanic male, black hair, preppy haircut. Other guests are unknown but no more than two additional."

"Understood, I'll get there quick as I can."

"See to it." Hawthorne says simply before hanging up.

"Sir, what are we doing?"

"Setting the trap. That Raul kid strikes me a smart kid. Smart people piss me off, too clever." He spits. "But there comes a point bein clever loops back around to being predictable."

"So you're trying to bait him?"

"Something like that. We're two blueberries driving around a marked shop, gonna stick out like peckers at a brothel. So we work with that. Did you notice how he was sittin?"

"Facing the door, back to the room..."

"Means he isn't scared of anyone coming up behind him. He feels safe in there, got a big linebacker acting as his bodyguard but keeps him at the bar. Close enough to help, not close enough to hear anything. The people he's waiting on are gonna be sat right in front of the door, backs to it. With the first thing they see being this kid's face."

"It's a power play." You say quietly.

"It's always a power play." Hawthorne adds as he checks the sidewalk before stepping out of the alleyway. "He's got himself in a position where he needs to flex that power to stay in charge. That's always how it is with young people in this shit."

"So where do we fit in?"

"We sit on the bar. Park right out front, maybe enjoy a coffee. We don't push on any of em, in fact maybe we cut someone a break. Something to relax him enough that he won't think he's the focus. Because he's big man and his word is law, he can't just cancel the appointment." He pauses on the corner. "He's gonna head somewhere safe, but private. We count on him heading there."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then hopefully we get a look at what this shitbird drives. Then we brew a strong pot and spend the night sifting through traffic cams to follow him. When hunches fail you can always make up for it with elbow grease."

You sit there for a moment taking in his words before he glances at you and furrows his brow.

"You waiting for an invite in the mail, rook? The shop! And drive it back with the windows down and the heat off."

"Wh..." The word dies on your tongue with a look. "Yes, sir!" You reply, hurrying away and once again thanking Kimble internally for the focus on cardio he put you through.

====

"Damn, rook. You look cold." Hawthorne says to you around ten or so minutes later. "Good job. It'll make this next part easier."

"W-what next part?" You ask, your teeth clacking slightly.

"Nobody's been in since you left, couple have gone out." He opens the door and climbs in. "Just pull up to the curb right out front and park it. Then follow me."

You do as he says and follow him with your hands cupped by your mouth. Hawthorne heads straight for the front door and opens it as if he was a regular, heading straight for the bar without so much as a side glance at any customers.

"Ay." He barks. "Barkeep, you do an Irish coffee?"

The familiar squashed face of the bartender peers over and he nods.

"Uh.. y-ye-yuh-ye-yu-yup." He stutters out.

"Good. Get me two mugs, hold the Irish. My partner's damn near blue in the lips here."

You manage an up-nod to him as you approach the bar with your hands tucked underneath your armpits. He's acting casual, so you play along, but you keep your eyes active. Raul clocked you both the moment you came in, his power play head of the table seat means he doesn't notice you watch him covertly pull a thin phone from his pocket.

"Ah-" You hear Hawthorne say. "Make a fresh pot, how long's that been sitting there?"

"B-b-bo-bout thirty minutes."

"Twenty five minutes too long, then. Go ahead make a fresh pot." He slightly raises his voice. "We ain't going anywhere anytime soon."

The barkeep silently gets to work fixing a fresh pot of coffee and the mood has noticeably dampened in the bar. Hawthorne now turns his eyes over the room before settling on the jock who still holds a beer in his hand.

"I hope you're wearing that thing because you peaked in College, son." Hawthorne says giving him a slow up and down. "Otherwise someone could assume you might be under the legal age to consume alcohol."

You see the jock swallow harshly and set the bottle down. Hawthorne raises a brow at it and smirks.

"Go ahead and get, I'm on a break anyways." He turns his back to the bar and speaks again. "When I finish this mug though? Well, gotta earn those tax dollars some how."

This causes a small surge of people who leave their bottles and glasses behind as they make for the door. You notice Raul still locked in on his phone, typing with a single hand before he stuffs it in his pocket and joins the mass of people. He grabs a hoodie from the front door and throws it on with a hood up. You smirk when Hawthorne says to you:

"Go out and start the shop up, rook. Make sure you sit in it while it warms up."

"Yes, sir." You drone in the most miserable tone you can force and join the precession as it spills onto the sidewalk.

Your eyes never leave that hood as it bobs through the crowd, slipping between disgruntled students deprived of a beer at eleven in the morning. You settle into the driver seat and crank the key enough to kick the heating on and relish in warmth that creeps through the fibers of your uniform. The street is lined with cars... you just have to find the one he's taking and... there.

You pull out your notepad and jot down the make, model, and color as best you can tell. The plate number joins it on the page right before he flips around in the road and heads north, straight for the highway that takes him to Amusement Mile. You keep your head down as he passes by, tail-lights disappearing as he rounds the corner. You give it another minute or two to be sure and then hop out and head right back inside just to see Hawthorne already approaching the door.

"What're ya getting out for? Go!" He hollers.

"B-b-bu-but, sir! Your c--caw--cuh-c-coffee!" The Bartender calls from behind him. Hawthorne doesn't bother looking back as you turn on your heel and run back to the shop jumping in the front seat and turning the engine over fully as you pull away from the curb.

"Bit of a dick move to get him starting another pot that you weren't even gonna drink, dontya think?"

"Coulda shuttered his bar." Hawthorne counters.

"Fair enough." You reply, tossing your notepad into his lap as you round the corner. "Got the vehicle details."

"Good work, he went this way? North?"

"Mhm."

"I still fuckin got it." Hawthorne declares quietly. "Kids these days're easier to read than Doctor Suess."

"What's the plan when we get there?"

"You tell me, I set you up now it's time for you to score. I can't do all the heavy lifting."

"You did one thing." You grumble. "But uh..."

>"Whoever his guests are, I wanna get em all in the same place at the same time. Association means we have probable cause to nab em, you and I go in while Kimble watches the front."
>"We should find out who the other guests are before deciding on anything, GCPD has resources like our shared database with the DMV right? While they have their meeting we collect plates and get some names."
>"We take em full force in the middle of their meeting. Kimble and his second can come with us, a four man team means we can handle three suspects easily."
>"No man is an island, like you said. Maybe we could loop traffic in on this? Once we have his car and the other guys he's meeting with we could track em all over the city or set up individual tails. Play the longer game and nab him on something more concrete than his little brother being a banger."
>Write-In

>>6357500
>"No man is an island, like you said. Maybe we could loop traffic in on this? Once we have his car and the other guys he's meeting with we could track em all over the city or set up individual tails. Play the longer game and nab him on something more concrete than his little brother being a banger."
These guys are peons. We want their bosses, and their operation. Better to get our details and let them loose, then track where they're going and investigate those area for bigger fish. Supervillains and capos.

>>6357500
>"No man is an island, like you said. Maybe we could loop traffic in on this? Once we have his car and the other guys he's meeting with we could track em all over the city or set up individual tails. Play the longer game and nab him on something more concrete than his little brother being a banger."
These guys are just kids playing at being "revolutionaries".

>>6357500
>"We should find out who the other guests are before deciding on anything, GCPD has resources like our shared database with the DMV right? While they have their meeting we collect plates and get some names."
I want to know if he's meeting someone we should give a shit about or if it's just more LARPers.

>>6357500
>"We should find out who the other guests are before deciding on anything, GCPD has resources like our shared database with the DMV right? While they have their meeting we collect plates and get some names."

>>6357541
>>6357561
Think any of them are dead ends instead? Why not traffic to trace plates on the others if they're students

>>6357500
>"No man is an island, like you said. Maybe we could loop traffic in on this? Once we have his car and the other guys he's meeting with we could track em all over the city or set up individual tails. Play the longer game and nab him on something more concrete than his little brother being a banger."
Seems like the move to me. He could be meeting with someone that has superpowers or just batman-like skills/gear. If we let him bounce on the bar we should commit to this strategy and cast a wide net. They aren't onto us yet, though I am gonna anticipate that the window on that will close soon. Raul is a catch specifically because having a family member will let us leverage partial immunity, and it'd be wise to arrest him before charges are publicly pressed on his sibling; idunno if he would have been clued in on the lab bust yet, and even if he was, idunno if he'd be able to know for sure that his brother was captured.

>>6357510
>>6357525
>>6357645

"No man is an island, like you said. Maybe we could loop traffic in on this? Once we have his car and the other guys he's meeting with we could track em all over the city or set up individual tails. Play the longer game and nab him on something more concrete than his little brother being a banger."

"Like?"

"Who knows? Could be meeting with someone else who's powered like Crane's wife or geared up like Firebug. So we cast a wide net and only move on Raul after the meeting."

"So you wanna pick Raul up today?"

"Before we publicly charge his brother with anything at least. Raid wasn't in the paper so I'm guessing Gordon and City Hall want it hush? Gives us until tomorrow at least, they were supposed to move."

"Dent wants to keep the raid under wraps so he can drop the news himself. Apparently he's got some speech planned for the end of the week. He's hoping by December he can loop in another win with Grey wrapping up the SIM and Mandragora case." Hawthorne leans back in his seat with a contemptuous grimace. "Then he gets to ride into the new year and new election cycle as the Mayor who stopped a major serial killer and Scarecrow attack. Press'll eat him up."

"Jesus, he's expecting a lot from the GCPD, especially considering his whole 'Police the police' angle."

"Yeah well, we've been moving fast these last two months. But you aint wrong. Grey's under some serious pressure..." Hawthorne trails off.

"Worried about him?"

"Hell no." Hawthorne snaps, but not with any real heat. "Just know the son of a bitch is all."

You both sit in silence for a few seconds before Hawthorne clears his throat and grabs the dash radio. Holding it close and speaking clearly.

"Dispatch, this is 1-Adam-0, can I get a 10-11 on the most senior Traffic officer who's working right now?"

"10-4, Sergeant. Hold." A few seconds pass until it crackles again. "1-Adam-0 go to Channel 8."

"Thanks Dispatch, out." Hawthorne says before twisting the dial. "Sergeant McClintic?"

"Mitchell Hawthorne." A weary voice from the other end replies. "What can I do for you?"

"Well I got something here that isn't parking enforcement or a buzzed driver bumping a city bus."

"How exciting." McClintic says dryly. "Wanna be more specific."

"Got a set of plates I want you to put the traffic cams on lookout for. Flag em, should have more for you before too long on top of that. Give you something to do behind that desk of yours."

"Surprised you didn't go to the Commissioner's kid with this."

"Word is, QRT has her on loan. Besides, I want cops on this, no offense to Gordon's girl of course. But any acronym other than GCPD does the leg work that's what gets on the front page."

"You start caring about glory, Mitch?"

"Hell no." He chuckles before giving you a side glance. "But my rookie wants to be in the paper."

"Didn't we all." McClintic drawls. "Consider it done, Mitch."

"Good hearing from you, pal. Keep a line open for the other plates, I'll get em to you in a batch."

The radio goes dead and you shake your head.

"When are you gonna let the paper thing go?"

"Never." He answers simply with a grin as he checks his phone. "Oh! Kimble has eyes on Raul. Kid parked up and went inside, just parked on the boardwalk like normal but went into the wreck of the park."

"That happened while I was gone, the demolition, they haven't done any work on it?"

"The city, meaning Dent and Gordon, aren't in a hurry to put it back together after what happened with Ba-"

"Dispatch to 1-Adam-0. Please respond."

"Dispatch, 1-Adam-0 here. Calling back so soon, you miss me?" Hawthorne says.

"Negative, this is a 10-5 from Commander Reiner."

"Shit... hit me then."

"Negative, 10-5 is designated for Officer DeLucia."

Hawthorne gives you a puzzled look and hands the transceiver over. You raise it and depress the button with a firm click.

"Officer DeLucia speaking." You say simply.

"Relaying a message for you, Officer. 10-19 Precinct 1 ASAP. Code Black."

10-19, a call to return to the station. But that code...

"What the hell?" Hawthorne grunts to himself. "Ask her to repeat that."

"Uh, repeat." You say into the transceiver.

"10-19, Precinct 1, Code Black."

"10-4." You reply back, setting the transceiver into it's cradle. "Sir, what's code black? That isn't in any of our handbooks."

"It's because it's an in-house term started by Loeb. We threw it out when Gordon took over."

"What's it mean?"

"Means a black out. Media and in-house. Whatever it is he isn't willing to talk to you about it over the radio or phone. Can't risk media or anyone else learning about it. Loeb usually called it in whenever it was something involving his dirty laundry."

"So if the Commander is using it... must be serious yeah?"

"Yeah. Serious enough that you should put your foot down, drop me off with Kimble and then get back to the station as fast as you can."

"Drop you off?" You ask, you feel your gut lock up and the hair on your neck stiffen. It feels like someone is watching you.

"Message was for you, rook. Dispatch made that clear by having me hand the radio over."

"Yeah but I mean it's not like you didn't hear it-"

"Doesn't. Matter." He says firmly. "If Reiner wanted me he'd have asked for me. He wants you, so go. I'll keep Kimble and Costas in-line. Figure out what I can from the guests."

>"No way, I didn't get this far to turn around right before we get to see them. If it's a black out then that means there's no rush right? I'll just stick around long enough to get eyes and see if I can Shivers anything up."
>"Understood, sir. Just, keep it to eyes only? We don't wanna spook em, let the cameras do the following. Have Kimble get some clear pictures."
>"Fine... just don't let that Raul kid slip you. Grab him after he gets back to his dorm or something? Won't be long before the organization finds out nobody moved shop."
>"Well if he didn't want you to come, he should have said so. I'm bringing you with me, I'm a better cop when I have you around to bounce ideas off of."
>Write-In

>>6357980
>>"Fine... just don't let that Raul kid slip you. Grab him after he gets back to his dorm or something? Won't be long before the organization finds out nobody moved shop.
Surely, this isn't something related to SIM.

>>6357980
>"Fine... just don't let that Raul kid slip you. Grab him after he gets back to his dorm or something? Won't be long before the organization finds out nobody moved shop."

>>6357995
Surely Mark’s parents or girlfriend are not currently chained to a radiator in a condemned building listening to that freak wax poetic about “cleansing the city”.

>>6357980
>"Fine... just don't let that Raul kid slip you. Grab him after he gets back to his dorm or something? Won't be long before the organization finds out nobody moved shop."

>>6357980
>"Fine... just don't let that Raul kid slip you. Grab him after he gets back to his dorm or something? Won't be long before the organization finds out nobody moved shop.
SIM dies today

>>6357979
>"The city, meaning Dent and Gordon, aren't in a hurry to put it back together after what happened with Ba-"
Oh shit, it's the amusement park from The Killing Joke.

>>6357980
>"Fine... just don't let that Raul kid slip you. Grab him after he gets back to his dorm or something? Won't be long before the organization finds out nobody moved shop."

>>6357995
>>6358011
>>6358040
Go-time, anons.

>>6357995
Could be the results of the blood tests...

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>>6358147
The quest will end the same way as that play from Team America: everyone has AIDS.

>>6357995
>>6358011
>>6358034
>>6358040
>>6358084

You grip the wheel tightly for a moment. Only to relax your grip after a few seconds and nod as the light turns green and you take the last turn.

"Fine... just don't let that Raul kid slip you. Grab him after he gets back to his dorm or something? Won't be long before the organization finds out nobody moved shop."

"Ha. Little shit like that couldn't slip me on his best day. I'm fuckin velcro." He says with a sly smile.

"I trust you." You reply simply. "And Kimble."

"It'll get done. Don't let it distract you from whatever Reiner lays down for you. Another lesson, rook." He waits for you to slow down as you approach the corner just down the street from Kimble's reported stake-out spot. "There's never a case more important than the one in front of ya. Doesn't mean you neglect your other cases, but when you're working one you only work the one. You understand me?"

"I think so." You offer.

"You're a smart kid, you'll figure it out on the drive over. Now get the hell out of here before you blow our cover with this damn thing." He says over his shoulder as he hops out the passenger door, the entire time unbuttoning his deep blue work shirt to reveal a grey sweatshirt.

"Layering up?" You prod.

"Ah fuck you. I'm an old ass man, I get cold."

You go to give him one final stinger for the road when you get a clump of fabric to the chest and watch it fall over the gearshift.

"Put that in my locker when you have a second." He says with the last laugh.

"Right. Good luck, sir." You offer up.

====

The longer you drive back to the station the stronger that sensation of being watched grows. Your stomach rolls like an insomniac as a few drops of cold sweat start to form at your neck. You haven't felt like this since you insisted on doing a talent show in middle school, an anxiety born from knowing you would have eyes on you and with those eyes , the expectations. But something nags at you, a recurring thought that skirmishes with your deeper thinking, is this fear because you're scared to mess up this "show" or is it from feeling like you're on-stage at all? Or... maybe you fear the audience.

As you turn into the parking lot your distracted thoughts are banished by a more concrete source of confusion. A lone white box truck sits in the middle of the front-side parking lot. As you park and step out you mentally note that the civilians and staff vehicles weren't simply moved, they were entirely vacated. A small awning is set up with a medic cross and more than a few pale and clammy patients... fellow officers.

A few Officers stand by a series of sawhorse barricades emblazoned with the words "TRAINING IN PROGRESS" creating a perimeter around the truck isolating it from the rest of the lot. As you approach one of them lifts a hand as he gets his radio.

"Name?"

"Officer Mark DeLucia, Commander Reiner sent for me?"

"He's here, sir." The officer, Yusef, speaks calmly into the radio.

"Send him through." Reiner's voice replies.

The Officer lifts the thick wooden board and steps aside to let you pass. As you do, he mutters to you.

"Shit is bad..."

You head deeper in and notice more heads than one looking at you. You try a casual smile but you can tell it comes out... wrong. A tightness in your chest makes breathing into something you need to put more than thought into and the closer you get to the truck the worse the feeling is. Commander Reiner stands above a massive sheet of plastic tarp above a few crime scene techs who fiddle with field kits. His glasses are clenched in his hand and his eyes are focused on the truck, staring at the back of it, only looking away when your footsteps catch his ear.

"Ah, DeLucia." He says quietly, his eyes sunken and his skin ashen. "Thanks for coming."

"Didn't really have a choice." You try to joke but Reiner only nods.

"No, I suppose you didn't." He glances at the truck again and sighs.

"Everything okay? Hawthorne explained a 'code black' to me, I didn't even know we did stuff like that."

"We don't." He says firmly before he lightens up. "At least we shouldn't. But this is... it's a lot."

"You're making me nervous, sir. What did you need from me?"

"What only you can do. Hennelly had a lot of good things to say about you after you helped QRT with the lab raid."

"Yes, sir. I'm assuming you're hoping I can do the same thing today with... whatever this is?"

"I don't want to put you under any pressure. It's... a lot." He pauses for a moment to assess your reaction, it's mostly confusion. "Look, you're a rookie officer. I'm not gonna ask you to do anything yet. I'm just... Just gonna show you."

Without a reply he immediately heads for the truck raising his voice before calling.

"MOVE DOWNWIND."

You follow after him, feeling like you're eight chasing after your dad again, you can't help but pick up on the speed at which people move away. Whatever is in this truck, nobody is eager to see, or apparently smell, it again. Reiner gets before the doors and seats his glasses on the bridge of his nose with a determined huff before gripping the cold white handle and looking at you over his shoulder.

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"If you have to throw up, it's okay. You wouldn't be the first today, it doesn't mean anything."

"Wha-"

Your words are cut off by the heavy clank of the lever disengaging as Reiner groans and walks backwards opening the rear of the truck and unleashing a hellish miasma.

Your eyes water before the smell even hits you but when it does, it strikes you almost physically, as the air is pushed out of your chest by a gasp mixed with a gag. You put a hand on your knee as you're subjected to the onslaught of layered rot that oozes out into the chilled air like a poison that clings to the back of your throat. Shit and copper. Rotten produce with a sharp sweetness. You can feel your stomach gurgling as you take in the haphazardly covered bodies that litter the truck floor; some of them maybe only a day old closer to the door while the ones further back are little more than the curdled remains of what was once human. Hand smeared on the back of the truck, looming over the pile of corpses, is a message scrawled in blood that has turned a deep brown with highlights of crimson:

APOKOLIPS IS

You feel a firm hand rest between your shoulder blades and another grip your shoulder. Your mouth floods with saliva like it's trying to wash this necrotic film from the inside of you. You let out a shuddering breath and feel something acidic rising on the back of your throat.

"It's alright. Do what you have to.." Reiner reiterates.

>Throw up. You can't stop it at this point anyways, better to get it out of the way so you can try to focus.
>Try to not throw up. You're a professional, or at least supposed to be. You need to straight up, wipe your eyes, and get to work.
>Force yourself closer, just let it wash over you and force yourself to get used to it sooner rather than later.
>Take a short walk away from this. You weren't ready for that, nowhere close. Get some fresh air and do a few of Jones' breathing exercises to get your head back on straight. Then, try again.
>Write-In

>>6358357
>Throw up. You can't stop it at this point anyways, better to get it out of the way so you can try to focus.
Speaking from experience, the best way to get over it is to get it out of the way. Better we empty our stomach before we get into the psychic weeds on this anyways.

>>6358357
>Throw up. You can't stop it at this point anyways, better to get it out of the way so you can try to focus.
Hopefully Mark’s lunch wasn’t too heavy today.

>>6358357
>Throw up. You can't stop it at this point anyways, better to get it out of the way so you can try to focus.
He might have Shivers, but Mark does NOT have his shit together. He is not a living walking volumetric shit compressor with his shit compressed to the density of neutron stars in its togetherness. He is nowhere close to Hawthorne or Grey or even Reiner's level yet

>>6358357
>>Throw up. You can't stop it at this point anyways, better to get it out of the way so you can try to focus.
Yeah, okay, that's not exactly the involvement I thought SIM would have, but jeez. Wonder who the detective they have working on this considering Grey needs to give all his attention to the fuckery going on involving ARGUS.

>>6358417
They can't take Grey off Calc's case either. ARGUS and by extension Dent wouldn't have any of it if Reiner tried. Whoever they have on SIM now needs to be fully briefed on it so they know the exact psycho he is... though if they see this truck, they'll know

>>6358357
>Take a short walk away from this. You weren't ready for that, nowhere close. Get some fresh air and do a few of Jones' breathing exercises to get your head back on straight. Then, try again.
Meta Martian Breathing, First Form: Don't Puke!

>>6358357
>Throw up. You can't stop it at this point anyways, better to get it out of the way so you can try to focus.

>>6358084
>Oh shit, it's the amusement park from The Killing Joke.
It makes sense desu, a huge giveaway was Barbara helping the special forces with intelligence and stuff. If it didn't happened maybe she was at college or something else idk

>>6358357
>”…aim me.”
>Throw up.

Wonder if some of the SIM cards we first found are to these victims…

>>6358464
I assumed she was Oracle, but hadn't pieced together that the Anarkists were operating out of the exact same park.

>>6358359
>>6358383
>>6358407
>>6358417
>>6358449
>>6358497

You grit your teeth as the acidic tide rises. You manage to grunt out a single request.

"Aim me..."

Reiner grips your shirt and turns you to the side as you let loose a spew of this morning's breakfast bars and stale bullpen coffee. You retch dryly as others around you look away and cover their own noses. Reiner pats your back as you feel the nasal drip stinging down your throat.

"You're alright." Reiner reassures you. "You're only human, just like the rest of us. You'll get a tougher stomach down the line."

You nod, shaking free the droplets of tear clinging to your lashes, the back of your hand wipes across your face as you straighten up. You give what could pass as a wave to the few sympathetic faces still watching and face Reiner.

"Lucky I skipped lunch, I guess..."

"I don't think any of us are lucky today." Reiner says, his eyes lingering on the inside of the truck.

"How did this happen?"

"Well, CCTV shows the truck being pulled into the parking lot around eleven fifty. We didn't get a good shot of the driver's face but the outfit he was in line's up with your report from Wayne Tower, when you met. He leaves and within ten minutes it's reported, Officer Chen checks it out and..."

"So why the code black?"

"We've been building up faith in the GCPD for months now, we might be low on funds and thin on manpower but our approval with citizens is rising. People are starting to believe in the GCPD again instead of hoping Batman comes to save em."

"And you don't want to undermine that by advertising someone drove a truck full of corpses onto our front yard and walked away."

"Essentially." He confirms. "Some people noticed the commotion and I cleared the area. Passed onto press it was a training exercise using simulated corpses. Just a time buyer is all."

"Right." You grunt, taking a moment to shake off the rumblings of nausea still lingering. "Who's the lead detective on this with Grey handling ARGUS?"

"I am." He says firmly. "I was a detective in Missing Persons back home, before I took the job here as Watch Commander."

"Wow, uh. Alright, go ahead then. Tell me what you've got."

"We've been running fingerprints since, we estimate no less than fifteen bodies but until we get them out onto a sheet... we can't be certain. We also have a pretty good idea of time, at least some of em. The ones closest to the door are fresher, rigor is lighter, less bloat, the usual signs. Ones in the back?" He huffs once. "Old. Estimate of a month and some change on the furthest one back. Vics are majority male and adult, though all the women we've ID's thus far are known sex workers."

"The other IDs? Any common theme?"

"Impoverished, most of the prints we pulled pinged in social services."

"He's been lurking around the Narrows. Probably can't venture too far out."

"All of the vics went out the same way, but through various means. Blood loss. Throat, wrists, or heart. Only seen the heart kills on the women."

"He's got a soft spot for sex workers." You say quietly, almost without meaning to.

"We also found one thing. Hand closest to the door had this in her fist." He gestures to a crime scene tech who brings over a baggie. "We assume this is due to Gordon ignoring his letter. Another way to reach out."

Your stomach lurches again, tightening around the void you recently created, for a moment you're thankful it's already all gone because between you Reiner holds up a small silver burner phone. The same cheap brand that you'd spoken with SIM over so many times.

"I've seen this before. He must have a whole pile of em..."

"Mobster's tend to buy in bulk. Probably took a heap of burners with em after we kicked Mandragora's operation out at the knees. No calls to or from, SIM card is clean as well. We assume he's gonna use it to call us with demands or maybe just to hear the sound of his own voice."

"And the... message?" You ask, vaguely gesturing at the back of the truck.

"Fits the religious psychosis you mentioned, saving people from eternal hell by sending their souls to heaven early... only he didn't finish it. Usually they stick a 'nigh' at the end of their doomsday declarations. We're thinking maybe he ran out of blood or time."

"Maybe it's the whole message." You say without really thinking about it, almost instinctually.

"Makes no sense then. Could mean he's deteriorating, it's what the spelling implied to me."

"The spelling? How?"

"I have access to the jackets of every officer, including their entire history at academy. He had top marks, like you, but still spelt 'apocalypse' like a fourth grader. You really think it's intentional?"

You stare at the words and feel that awful sense of deja vu. But the more you dwell on the thought the louder the sound of your own heartbeat becomes in your ears. You pull your eyes away and rub your jaw thoughtfully.

"I don't know..."

"Well, I'm putting my chips on you that you can find out. Open to take a run at it?"

"Yes, sir." You say, feeling a bit more grit in your gut now.

"If you need anything to help, just let me know." He stands back and folds his arms. Watching.

>Focus on the cell phone, it was the last thing he touched. It had to have been. "Could you hand me the cell phone?"
>Focus on the woman closest to the door, her hand still extended like a call for help. "Pass me a glove... I think my best bet is to... make contact."
>Focus on the message on the back wall, it's falling flakes of blood.
>Write-In

>>6358764
>Focus on the woman closest to the door, her hand still extended like a call for help. "Pass me a glove... I think my best bet is to... make contact."
I think this is worth the risk if we can narrow down exactly where and when she was slain. I'm willing to bet money that SIM had a hiding spot he committed the majority of these murders in, just as a matter of practicality. I'm also willing to bet he's counting on us finding it and has it trapped, but that goes without saying. Either way, we gotta find it on the off-chance he's still there waiting for us.

>>6358764
>Focus on the woman closest to the door, her hand still extended like a call for help. "Pass me a glove... I think my best bet is to... make contact."

>>6358764
>Focus on the woman closest to the door, her hand still extended like a call for help. "Pass me a glove... I think my best bet is to... make contact."
Requiescat in pace

>>6358764
>Focus on the woman closest to the door, her hand still extended like a call for help. "Pass me a glove... I think my best bet is to... make contact."

>>6358764
>>Focus on the message on the back wall, it's falling flakes of blood.

>>6358764
>Focus on the message on the back wall, it's falling flakes of blood.