03/20/2075
0700 Hours
LSP Headquarters
"Jesus. The coffee's cold."
He had only realized it once it had touched his lips, his right hand no longer felt sensation. Coen Yoon forced what he believed to be last night's coffee down his esophagus, emptying the plastic cyclinder it came in. The temperature affected the flavor, and this particular brew did not deserve to be cold. It probably wasn't worth drinking. Coffee was coffee though, and he couldn't complain as he rarely got around to making it.
"Wasn't my turn," replied one of the patrolmen loitering in the break room.
The officer didn't seem to mind the cold coffee, but he seemed barely enthused to quaff it himself. The news feed playing on his terminal kept him distracted. The device was a screen slightly bigger than the man's hand, and it was completely transparent when turned off. It had full access to the Net and was mainly a communication tool.
Coen's own terminal chimed. At this early in the morning, he had no doubt as to who it was.
"C.K., I need you in my office ASAP."
Captain Alexandra Paris' British colonial accent remained ever fresh from the beginning of the day to the waning hours of the shift. She was Nigerian by nationality, but she took it up as a result of socializing with colonials in her younger years. Her voice never hinted at decay or weariness from the veteran in all of Coen's years as a detective in her unit.
"Yes ma'am," Coen dumped the cup in one of the recycle units and headed down the hall.
Normally he would have had a chance to sit down at his desk with a good fifteen minutes to himself to try and write a half-decent report. Paperwork was never his forte. On this particular morning, it could have been to enjoy what would have been a nice hot cup of coffee. The routine had taken a detour, and it seemed distressing.
Coen could only wonder.
-
Captain Alexandra Paris was nobility, or perhaps gentry. Neither existed officially in this part of the world, but her family's wealth had earned her the right to walk around the office with such an implicit air.
As Coen stepped into the office, he could see her patiently reviewing her files. Her lashes flickered as she looked up, she quickly swiped away the files on her monitor and turned to him.
"Morning C.K. How have things been so far?" her hands clasped in front of her like the headmistress of a prep school.
"Morning Cap', nothing too exciting going on," Coen would reply with about as much brevity as the captain's own crisp words.
The remnants of the coffee's taste had started to turn bitter in his throat a bit early in the morning. Coen was neither an augur nor an actuary, he could not divine from this what path the day would take.
"Ma'am if you wanted to know about John, you would have called him in. What's this about?"
She nodded, paused, and then spoke.
"Pope is breathing down my neck. The last few years haven't been exactly golden ever since Bamako."
"That's what you get when half the force is cut down."
"Politicians overreacting more like it."
"They make a PR stunt out of anything," Coen shrugged, "If it makes you feel better, I'm on your side."
"So is Pope, but that's all a mystery," the captain inhaled a deep breath and stood up, "I'm assigning you and John to a couple of transfers coming in from several other units."
"FCU and Narcotics seeing extinction pretty soon?"
Paris remained motionless, "It's only a matter of time before the entire LSP merges with one of the corporate outfits."
She shifted her gaze to Coen, body turned away toward the skyline outside her window.
He responded, "No more traffic duty would be a plus at least."
Her gaze remained unchanged, but then again Coen's jokes were never really jokes.
Coen with a cocked brow, "So...how fresh are they?"
"You'll see for yourself."
Coen was about to leave when the captain uttered, "Look sharp. Be sharp. Make this work. Understand, Sergeant Yoon?"
He nodded and left.
-
0711
Brekke's Desk
John-Olav Brekke sat at his desk, feet propped up on the table. His eyes had found a particularly interesting part of the ceiling to stare at. There was a little, off-white splotch on the white material above him. John was entranced by it.
His door opened, though his eyes stayed put. It had to be Coen, no one else would bother him this early. Eliz generally left him alone until 1000 if he wasn't in the field.
"Hard at work John?"
John couldn't help but put a smile on for the man. "Of course. Thinking about how much of a drain this third child is going to be on my wallet." Coen chuckled softly.
"You and I both know it is a welcome burden, hell, you wanted to get that son. Wasn't Vanessa fine with two kids?" John's brow creased a little, he tore his eyes from the ceiling; giving his attention to Coen.
"What's really up? You aren't one for idle chit chat in the morning."
"We've got some new blood coming in."
The creased brown morphed into a raised eyebrow, "Newbs?" John put his chin in his hand, rubbing two days worth of stubble he had yet to shave. "We could do with a little fresh meat." The shadow of Bamoko still hung over the department. A bit of guilt stayed with John to this day, he was on vacation in Oslo with his family when it all went down. A few in the department resented the fact that his hands had been kept entirely clean of the thing. The thought reminded him of Coen's hand, lost in the series of explosions in the school.
"I wanted to let you know John, didn't want it to be a surprise." He appreciated the respect Coen gave him, when he could easily throw his weight around insted. "Paris made it sound as if they're on the way here now."
Coen walked out as John rummaged in his chest pocket, pulling out the old sonogram photo of his son-to-be. He was playing it safer on the street lately. Being propped up in the hospital with gunshot wounds while his baby was being delivered was not the ideal vantage point.
Lumaire was a great city, but there were plenty of stupid people out there on the streets looking to kill a cop. John had a fourth person about to depend on him.
-
0718
St. Cloud's Desk
Tia Marie St.Cloud tapped away at her panels blissfully ignorant of a real world. Until Coen approached. At which point she obligated a smile, not that she wouldn't smile to him anyway. Tia opened up a new file tree with information regarding the new team. It immediately appeared on her terminal.
"Alright size 'em up for me." Coen folded his arms leaning against the desk behind them and watched as she brought up the names and faces on the screen.
"Emmett Tigron, Philly boy, his uncle was a dirty cop. He came here, was a beat cop at LSP until he passed the exam. Off duty during Bamako. Survived the cuts and admin had him working in Homicide for several months," Tia said.
"Not bad," Coen said with no change in facial expression.
She would add a snide comment, but she felt it was better placed with a more colorful new assignee.
Tia spoke, "Viktor Ivanov, born in southern Russia, parents were government workers. He immigrated here. Worked in CPU until it was folded, transferred to Financial Crimes, then went back to CPU during their little stint for some earmarks."
"That didn't work out, otherwise he wouldn't be here," Coen nodded.
"Tyran Bulgari, born in some backwater place called The Mud Narrows, ever heard?"
"No."
She chuckled, "Neither have I, was a patrolman for several years like his daddy, Erik Bulgari."
"Ah, good man. We worked a few shifts together. Didn't know his son was already..."
"If they came from a place called The Mud Narrows, did you really think you knew anything...?"
"Fair point."
"Decent cop, he's got a temper though. Let's hope he understands what it takes to get to senior detective.
"You'd be surprised as to how many prefer their personality over their paycheck."
"Would you be one of them?"
"Never had a personality. So no conflict of interest."
"Right..." Tia wanted to chalk that up under bullshit, but she had to admit he was right.
Getting to his position required a certain ingredient. In his case, it was probably luck, which was nothing special. He was just in the right place at the right time.
"It also says here that he wanted to join Narcotics."
Tia glanced at Coen with a mild grin, the latter responded with an absent shrug, "Must be luck that he landed here, he would have gotten the axe pretty soon. I was lucky, I know that."
She nodded in agreement.
"Last but not least, Jennifer Trent. Born in England. Got a bachelor's in chemistry and forensic science. Worked in forensics, then switched...for obvious reasons."
Tia felt it was necessary to add, "She's one of the lucky ones then. Her country wasn't bombed to hell..."
"The pay isn't what it used to be, she could have done something else with her bachelor's in chemistry."
"Probably. Maybe work for one of the giant pharmaceuticals or manufacturers, but that's totally none of my business. That's all of 'em."
Coen stood up, "I guess we should get started then."
-
0730
Briefing Room
The assembled group of major crimes detectives sat in their seats bleary eyed. Some were long time cops who had seen much, others were fresh to the business of being a detective. However, they all shared the same awestruck look that fresh academy recruits had painted on their faces as they recgonized that they had new jobs, offices, and superiors. It would take them some time to get used to the pace of things.
Sergeant Yoon took his seat nearest the main screen which, due to its dimensions, practically doubled as a wall and a digital water fountain whenever not used for briefings.
The other veterans casually shuffled in, unbemused by protocol. These guys could have been doing it in their sleep. Brekke took his seat on the far end behind the recruits, trying to observe each of them before he got to know them in the field. Some gave nods and exchanged handshakes with familiars before the briefing started.
The analysts, Tia and Eliz remained at their desks. They were going to be on-call the entire day while they monitored their feeds.
Then Captain Paris strode in with heels clicking on each step, she buttoned up her jacket before she took everyone in by a couple of glances.
Paris paused and smiled for a split second before she began introducing the senior members that would oversee the group closely while she managed them from afar.
"I am Captain Paris. This is Sergeant Yoon, that's Detective Brekke, and those two ladies are Eliz Nasso and Tia Marie St. Cloud, civilian analysts assigned to help you on your cases."
"I thought we were past the whole "civilian" thing," Eliz chirped.
"If you want to get technical, we're all civilians here," Paris continued unfazed by the upstart remark that she had grown accustomed to.
"Unfortunately, that's all the time we have for formalities. You'll get to know each other better eventually," she took several steps over to the main screen.
"The last 24 hours haven't reported any serious cases, so most of you might be on some form of beat duty until further notice. You've all been assigned a patrolman, but due to the fact that we're undermanned at the moment, they'll probably be doing the same thing you're doing."
Paris took the time to lean against a free railing before continuing in a more relaxed posture, "Be on the lookout for gang activity. It's been quiet, but I'm sure all of you are familiar with how quickly things can change in this city."
"Dismissed." Paris strode out with the same air she came in with.
-
Missions.
Suspicious Activity Report #1
Area- Corner of Laxmi and Hanover streets
Objective - Investigate the area, talk with the locals.
Details - The city's been relatively quiet aside from the occasional mugging. We're all sorry, Sergeant Yoon in particular, that we couldn't put you on a murder case. Maybe you should consider yourself lucky though. Anyway, we got a report of suspicious activity down at Laxmi and Hanover. Need someone to go check it out, it's probably not much but you never know. Also, there's a nice little coffee shop down there called "The Old Man's," and they sell these things called ""beignets". Pick me up a few.
- St. Cloud
Subpoenas Not Necessary
Area- Finley's on the south east side of town.
Objective - Oversee the contractors and make sure nobody gets hurt.
Details- We got a report that a group of squatters took up residence in a bar about to be demolished called Finley's. I mean a sleeping pod in one of the hovels is only three credits a night, so this shouldn't be a big deal. Unfortunately, they've barricaded themselves and the owner of the property reported that they are heavily armed. He decided it was best to call in Paragon Security Services to deal with the matter. PSS has dispatched a team, but these corporate security types can get a bit out of hand without proper oversight. We need one of you guys down there to be a liaison for LSP and the city to make sure we don't have unnecessary casualties. Make it clear that they need to rely on non-lethal methods. Don't be afraid to put your foot down when you feel they're crossing a line.
- Yoon
Bombs Are Machines Too
Area- Vance, Landover, & Hyde Law Office South Park Location
Objective- Investigate.
Details- A bomb threat was called in at the Vance, Landover, & Hyde law office at South Park. The firm is like any other firm, but they've been in the spotlight in recent years for trying to break down the limitation to mass producing AI units in the city. We're not quite sure if this is a true threat, a disgruntled employee, or an attempt to get the place swatted. But any bomb threat will always warrant a second look if I've learned anything as a cop.
- Brekke