Zoe Andersen
She noticed a man in the doorway and stood up as the new detective assigned to her division finally reported in.
"Captain Andersen." The detective held a hand for her to shake. She shook his hand and offered him a seat.
"Detective Armstrong, glad to have you on board." She closed the folder containing the file she had been reading. Nick Armstrong's file.
He was a night general, an unofficial term for detectives who handled nearly everything at night when the regular working hours were over. And he worked on that post for over ten years, in one of the most dangerous divisions in Los Angeles, the 77th. He had seen it all.
"What made you ask for a transfer to Mid-Wilshire?" She asked. She didn't have time for pleasantries.
"I got burned out in the 77th. I figured Mid-Wilshire might be a good place to ease up a bit, and get some balance." Armstrong answered, not bothered by her question. It was a respectable reason, and she was glad that a man of Armstrong's experience would be invaluable to her officers.
"Please tell me if you need anything at all to help with your transition here." She replied.
"I could use a tour guide to show me around, preferably one from patrol." Armstrong asked.
It was not a bad idea, and she remembered one of her rookies was still waiting for his new T.O. I'll have one assigned to you, Officer John Nolan. I'll have him join you after roll call."
"Excellent." Armstrong seemed like he was very eager to be here. "I also brought a bunch of donuts and I left them in the break room. Do you mind if I make an announcement with Sergeant Grey?"
"Be my guest. It's a good way to introduce you to patrol." She was sure her officers would appreciate the snacks, but he had a long way to go to endear himself to her patrol force, 10-year veteran or not. They do everything by the book in Mid-Wilshire, she made sure of that.
She watched him in roll call as he made a speech about how real police work is done by patrol. It could use less butter, but his speech about cooperation and trust was reassuring and she could see how he genuinely wanted to help with the cases.
"Be safe out there." Grey told them and ended the briefing.
"Bradford." She called the senior T.O. just as he was about to leave the room with his rookie.
"Here, Chief Williams added another book to your Sergeant's exam." She handed him an old, worn book.
"Split Second Leadership, leading men in the line of duty." Bradford read the title out loud. "This is from the sixties. What's this got to do with twenty-first century policing?"
She asked the same question, but Chief Williams felt like he needed to retain some of the old leadership style, and the old man was always fond of military veterans since he was one himself. She knew he had been keeping an eye on Bradford, as he was one of the few officers in her division he asked the status for personally during high-level meetings.
She remembered the delight on the chief's face when he heard about Bradford's decision to finally take up the sergeant's exam and told her to give Bradford the book.
"Ours is not to ask the reason why." Grey stated. She was sure that he must have read that as well when he studied for his own sergeant's exam. "Read the book."
"Yes sir."
She went back to her office, as it was about time for another meeting.
Nyla Harper had arrived.
Jack Routh
"How are your students?"
Angela was very interested in his 'side gig' as she liked to call it. She admitted that she found Friday patrol to be dull and boring, since she patrolled alone. He missed riding with her too.
"It's only been one class." He told her. "So far, they've been very attentive when I gave my first lecture. Since they were well-behaved, I decided to skip the assignment for the day."
"I bet you'll be an instant favorite there." Angela mused. "Are you planning to assign them to group projects?"
"Yes, it's required by the history department." He answered. "Personally, I prefer individual projects. But I have to follow the course sylla…." Their chat was interrupted when they received a call from Shaw Memorial. It seemed like they needed help from a violent patient and were asking nearby units for assistance.
He pressed the accelerator and their shop rushed to the hospital, and he rushed inside to see the emergency room was crowded with medical staff. A nurse saw him and Angela and immediately reported the situation.
"Just came in from a 5150 hold." The nurse reported. That meant an involuntary mental health hold, and they and medical professionals could detain an individual for up to 72 hours if they were deemed a danger to themselves and the public.
He heard furniture breaking and screams and pushed his way past the crowd of onlookers.
"He got loose, he's high on something." The nurse looked worried.
He turned to the corner just in time to see a large obese man wearing nothing but a kilt taking out two guards. The suspect let out a bellow and head-butted another security guard and tossed him across the hallway. The suspect was shirtless, and he noticed he was sweating heavily, a usual sign of a meth user or other illegal substances.
"Whoa." Angela looked surprised at the scene. The suspect then noticed them and charged at Angela. His former T.O. deployed her taser, but the suspect shrugged it and he stepped forward and tackled him and both of them fell to the ground.
The man was heavy and Angela tried to tase him again, but he took out her legs with a swing of his arm and she joined him on the floor as she fell on her back.
They wrestled on the ground, trying to overpower each other and gain better leverage. They rolled down the floor, and he mostly avoided the elbows and fists thrown at him.
He was finally able to push the man off him and immediately created distance between him and the larger man. Angela had rolled to the side, giving him the space to take down his target. As the suspect charged once more, bellowing in rage, his right hand shot out with his palm facing outward and hit the suspect's throat. The suspect immediately started choking as he struggled to breathe, and he kicked the man's knee while he was distracted.
The suspect fell to the ground and hit his head on the floor, knocking him out.
"What are you doing?" He heard an angry female voice behind him. He ignored the woman and started to secure the suspect with his handcuffs.
"There's no need for that!" He finally looked up to see a familiar face, Doctor Grace Sawyer.
"You didn't have to hit him that hard." She continued scolding him as she checked for the suspect's breathing. "You could have seriously injured him!"
"Doctor, the suspect's a 5510, and he clearly had something to make him rage out like a hulk." Angela answered. "What Officer Routh did is considered an appropriate use of force. He was just shrugging off the taser like it was just tickling him."
"Routh?" Dr. Sawyer stared at him for a moment then at Angela and he saw her features softened from the angry look she had earlier. "I remember the two of you."
"Yes, from the earthquake." He replied.
"Grace?"
"John?"
He saw Nolan in front of the crowd of spectators along with the new detective assigned to the station.
It turned out that Dr. Sawyer knew Nolan, with how they knew each other's names.
"We need to get him to a gurney." Dr. Sawyer focused back on the suspect. A nurse wheeled one beside the unconscious suspect, and with the help of four other men including Nolan and Armstrong, they lifted the large man to the mobile bed.
"How much do you think he weighed?" Angela asked.
"400 plus pounds, easy." Detective Armstrong answered.
He took a quick shower when they returned to the station to submit their report. The large man's sweat smelled repulsive and he had it all over his uniform after their tumble on the floor. Angela explained that was the side effect of using meth.
"That was a classic example of why I insisted you bring a spare uniform when you changed to short sleeves." Angela told him. She decided she wanted a shower too and they walked together to the lockers after their quick lunch. "I wouldn't have allowed you inside my shop if you still smelled like a skunk."
Feeling refreshed and smelling clean after his shower, he was about to head back to the shop when he heard a scream coming in from the front desk. He wasn't the only one who heard the sound, as he and other officers rushed to the front desk to see one of their female officers staring at a brown package on one of the chairs for visitors. Other civilians were standing back, maintaining their distance from the object.
The package was small, and it was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a black bow. There was also blood dripping down the chair's white surface and to the marble floor from the brown package.
"What is it?" Zoe came in, followed quickly by Grey.
"One of the visitors noticed the package." The female officer reported. "She screamed when she saw it was dripping blood on the floor."
"Secure the area." Zoe ordered, "Check the CCTVs and interview anyone who could have seen the person that dropped this off.
It was forensics investigators that opened the package five minutes later. The reception area had been cordoned off, and the station was in lockdown. He narrowed his eyes when he saw the human heart inside. Strange.
It took two hours for the results from forensics to come back. The news was not good. The FBI had been called in due to the nature of the case and their field team immediately arrived to take the lead with the investigation.
Something was nagging him when he saw the perfectly cut human heart, so he made his way to the briefing room to listen in to the briefing. He wasn't the only one, Angela was there along with detectives from Homicide.
"So it's a female heart, 25 to 30 years old." Zoe read the report from the FBI forensic report to the gathered officers and detectives while the FBI agents sat to the side. "According to the report, the heart was removed while the victim was still alive, three to five days ago. No DNA or fingerprints were found on the paper wrapper or the ribbon. The forensics team noted that the heart was cut by an expert, using a very sharp implement like a scalpel."
Special Agent Garza stood up and took a closer look at the pictures. "I think this is a serial killer, Captain. You were right to call us in."
"What makes you say that?" Grey asked.
"Why send it to the cops?" Garza pointed at the picture of the package. "He wants to impress, like a child crying for attention."
They ran a search for missing women with the parameters from the victim. He admired the mobile equipment the FBI had at their disposal, their equipment were connected to several databases. They used their own specialized software, and he was amazed at the speed they could isolate information and pull up records.
He watched as their computer specialist ran a search for reports of missing women aged 25 to 30 and was surprised when he saw a familiar face.
"That's Betty Price."
"You know her?" Garza asked. He saw Zoe look at him with a raised eyebrow.
"She's in the class I teach in the community college." He answered.
"She was arrested for solicitation six months ago. Her prostitute name was Mary Kelly." The FBI analyst behind the computer read her information. He didn't realize Betty was a prostitute. He sincerely hoped she wasn't the missing victim but the clues made sense.
"Strange. That can't be a coincidence." He looked at the picture of the human heart and Betty's prostitute name, as new memories from Lucy Worsley flashed in his mind.
"What's a coincidence?" Zoe asked.
"Jack the Ripper's last victim was also called Mary Kelly, in 1888. Her heart was cut out from her body." He shared.
"So you think it's a copycat serial killer?" Garza asked him and he saw how grim the special agent now looked.
"It's possible, but we can't be sure until we find the body and compare the injuries to the body from the records." He explained. "The attack on Mary Kelly was the most brutal one yet compared to the other victims of the Ripper. It was also his last murder before he vanished without a trace."
Special Agent Garza nodded at the information he shared and watched as the man briefly spoke to his team. They finished quickly and Garza walked back to Zoe.
"Captain Andersen, I'd like to take Officer Routh with me when we investigate this case." Special Agent Garza requested.
"Go ahead." Zoe nodded. "Keep me updated on your findings."
"Thank you, Captain." Garza smiled for the first time since he arrived. "Shall we, Officer Routh?"
It was a new experience riding with an FBI field team. They were all more relaxed and casual than he expected.
"Officer Routh?"
He turned to the woman beside him, he recognized her when he caught the serial killer in the hospital a few months back. "Yes, Special Agent Stensen?"
He noticed the look of surprise from the blonde agent's face. "You remember me?"
"Yes, on the capture of that previously unknown serial killer." He replied.
"I watched your chase scene with the suspect from the hospital CCTV." Stenson admitted. "That was quite a show."
The rest of the field team then introduced themselves, and included their specializations.
They followed up on a lead, where prostitutes like Betty used boutique hotels whenever they were with their clients. Records indicated Betty was last seen in this hotel and when they arrived they started asking the doorman questions.
The doorman initially denied knowing Betty, but he finally admitted to knowing her when Garza brought out his badge and told him she was missing. The doorman confirmed that he had seen Betty leave the hotel five days ago, and got worried when he didn't receive her text to reserve another room that he usually receive at midnight last night.
"That morning." Jack interrupted the doorman.
"Sir?"
"That night means she left at 11:59, when it reached 12, and then it's that morning." He explained. "In an investigation, details matter."
"Uhh right." The doorman continued his statement. "I saw Ms. Kelly leave five days ago that morning. I asked her if she wanted me to call a cab for her, but she said she would find one on her own."
"What direction did she walk to?" He asked, looking around.
"That way sir."
He immediately set off and crossed the street, following the direction the man pointed at. He noted a good spot for observation and started walking to that area to test his theory.
"Routh? Where are you going?" Agent Laura Stensen asked. She started following him, followed by the rest of the field team but he ignored them for the moment and continued his pace until he reached what he thought was a suitable hiding spot.
"If my theory is correct, the killer would have targeted her and knew her schedule." He explained and stood behind a dumpster. "This spot would give a perfect vantage point to look at the hotel without being seen. And with the absence of streetlamps in the area, the killer would be hidden in the shadows."
"You're right." Stensen took his spot and looked back to the hotel.
"There were no reports of suspicious activity, so the killer must have got her out fast." Another FBI agent who introduced himself as Brendon Acres suggested.
"No, he remained here. Otherwise, someone might have seen him." He looked around and noticed a wide metal door behind the hidden vantage point. It was rusty, covered in posters and it smelled of piss, but with one push, the door opened easily. He looked around the dimly lit room and walked inside.
The other agents immediately pulled out their weapons and flashlights and they entered the empty warehouse after him.
Agent Acres pulled aside the sheets of plastic that hung from the ceiling, immediately revealing Betty Price's body.
He clenched his fists, seeing the blank expression on his former student's face. She was very eager to ask questions during his lecture, and seemed genuinely interested in the subject. She told him she wanted to work in a museum. That was all gone now.
He was more determined now to catch her killer.
"Damn." He heard Garza let out a curse.
As he suspected, the body was mutilated in a way that matched the records from the newspapers in London during the 1800s.
"It's a match." He told the FBI field team. "The killer studied extensively Jack the Ripper's cases. Whoever did this recreated the murder to the very last detail."
Investigators arrived 30 minutes later and started recording evidence. Lopez also appeared and told him she was responsible for maintaining the perimeter with a few other units. There were a good number of reporters now outside, somehow having gotten wind of a copycat serial killer. The press always loved sensationalizing news to gain more viewers, similar to what had happened with the original Jack the Ripper case.
"Sir, I found something stuck in her ribs. Take a look at this." One of the investigators pulled out a thin blade from Betty's corpse. It appeared to have broken as only a part of the blade had remained.
"He even used an authentic Liston Knife." He leaned closer and shined his own flashlight at the thin piece of metal. Immediately the rest of the field team turned to him for an explanation.
"It's a surgical tool used in the 1800s when there were no anaesthetics , where speed is the determining factor for safety in a surgical amputation." He explained. "It's named for the Scottish surgeon, Robert Liston, a renowned surgeon noted for his speed and skill in surgeries."
"You really know your history." Garza commented. "Is this Liston knife easily sourced today?"
"I doubt it, they are known for being very brittle so very few pieces survived. That's the price for its razor-like sharpness. Less than a hundred are probably in the country right now and you can only get them from antique dealers or other private collectors."
"That narrows it down." Agent Stensen replied. "Well get a list prepared."
Matthew Garza
Those fools from the Department of Homeland Security were wrong in their analysis. Jack Routh was better suited for the Bureau. His analytical mind and encyclopedic knowledge of obscure historical facts were making their work easier by an order of a magnitude.
Aside from Agent Stensen, he noticed the doubt in the faces of the rest of the field team when he first invited Jack to join their investigation. Those faces full of skepticism vanished once the P2 Patrol Officer from Mid-Wilshire started speaking and shared his knowledge combined with his analytical mind.
The timeline for catching this copycat serial killer could be done in just a week at this rate, a new record for their field team. As agent Acres and his niece, Agent Flores looked up the antique stores that could have sold the rare Liston knife, he watched as Jack Routh continued to walk around the perimeter, his eyes analyzing everything he saw.
Because he was watching Routh at that exact moment, he was able to see the police officer abruptly stop and turn around. He followed the younger man's gaze and saw a drain grate embedded on the floor, several feet away from the perimeter of the crime scene.
He immediately hurried to Routh as the officer kneeled down on the floor, and with a gloved hand, carefully pried the metal grate out of the ground.
"What is it?" He asked.
"Take a look." Routh shined a flashlight in the drain.
"That's… a Black Dahlia." He whispered. He immediately called on the investigators to secure this scene as well. The flower was carefully lifted from the drain, but there weren't any other clues left by their copycat killer.
"We know who the killer will copy next." He stated. The Black Dahlia case was a permanent black record for the LAPD. The murder of an aspiring actress, the gruesome way her body was mutilated, and the letters he sent to the media made a mockery of the LAPD.
"The problem is, we don't have any leads aside from the Liston knife" Agent Brendon Acres commented.
"Officer Routh?" Agent Stenson called out.
Routh had made his way back to the body of his student, observing her wrist closely.
"What is it?" He couldn't help but ask.
"The wound on her wrist." Routh shined his flashlight on the area he indicated. "It's in the shape of a star. The Manchester Herald falsely reported the shape of the wound, when in reality it was a semi-circle. I read the reports of the original investigator."
"So the killer must have read the newspapers online and used it as a guide to copy Jack the Ripper." Agent Stenson theorized.
"Unlikely, the Manchester Herald folded in 1889." Routh replied. Damn, he was making his experienced field agents look like trainees.
"The only place we can find a copy, is the public library, and with that, a possible name." Routh added. He stood up, not noticing all the eyes staring at him with awe. Even the forensics team stopped their documentation process just to listen to him. "Shall we?"
Twenty minutes later, they were searching the logbooks of those who checked out the papers.
"Here." Agent Acres pointed at a handwritten name. "Manchester Herald 1889, borrowed a month ago by Freddie Abberline. We got a name!"
"It's a fake name." Routh replied. "Frederick Abberline was the chief inspector of the Jack the Ripper murders."
"I knew it was too good to be true." Acres sighed.
"But, this name looks eerily similar in penmanship." Routh pointed to the handwritten name near the bottom of the logbook.
"Jay Elroy. He took out a copy of the 1947 Los Angeles Times." Agent Stensen read the information. "And he just borrowed it today."
"That means the killer could still be here." He added. They started looking at the few people in the library. Most of them were ignoring their presence, while a thin, pale man was looking at them nervously.
The moment his agents approached the man, he immediately ran.
"FBI! Stop!" Agent Acres ran after the suspect, while the rest of the team tried to circle around him to cut him off. Agent Stensen managed to tackle the man near the stairs, causing his bag to spill out its contents on the floor.
Pens, notebooks and a bone saw spilled out.
"Care to explain?" Agent Acres asked the man as he started to secure him in cuffs.
"Let me go!" The suspect demanded.
They arrived at Mid-Wilshire Station where they interrogated the suspect, Jay Elroy. He invited Routh to join Agent Stensen and Agent Acres to join in the interrogation. He remained on the other side of the one-way mirror, along with Captain Andersen and Sergeant Grey.
"How's Routh?" Grey asked. "Was he useful in your team?"
"He made my team look like trainees." Garza sighed. "That man belongs in the FBI."
"What happened?" Andersen asked.
"Your fiancé used his expertise in ancient and modern history to track down the clues." He replied. "He has a sharp and analytical mind, perfect for the bureau."
"You have to convince him." Grey replied, giving a quick glance to his captain. "I think Metro is preparing a place for him already once he earns enough experience as a P2."
"I'll make a better offer." He replied. If Routh wanted action, the FBI has their own SWAT unit, and its elite Hostage Recovery Team that often participated in overseas missions alongside JSOC units.
The investigation did not turn out the way they had planned. The man they caught was an author of comics, glorifying the murders and the serial killers. Jay Elroy claimed that the bone saw in his bag gave him inspiration for his creative work, and even showed a copy of his work.
He watched through the mirror as Routh and his two agents poured over the thick comic book.
"This is incredibly detailed." Routh commented as he flipped through the comic book one page at a time. "It's practically a visual step-by-step guide on how to recreate the Jack the Ripper murders."
"Thank you." Elroy replied, looking happy. The man was a disturbing individual to actually revel in death and murder.
"That means the real killer is one of your readers." Agent Stensen added.
"Wait, there is really a serial killer out there…. Doing murders based on my comic books?" Elroy asked. "Oh wow…"
"Wow?" Stensen asked. "You seemed to be happy people are murdered."
"Oh, I feel sorry for the victims of course." Elroy replied, but everyone could tell he was lying. "But the publicity…. I'll receive for this… wow."
The next day, they received a call. A body had been discovered in a nearby park close to where the body of Betty Price was found. They rushed to the scene, and he had once again asked Captain Andersen to borrow her officer to assist in the investigation. Andersen had agreed, and informed them that Jack Routh would head straight to their location instead of the station.
They had been drinking coffee as they waited for the forensics to secure the scene, when a large black and grey bike arrived. The rider parked his bike beside their vehicle and he spotted Routh once he removed his helmet.
"Thank you for coming so quickly Officer Routh." He gave a fresh cup of coffee to their guest, who accepted it quickly.
"Thank you." Routh replied. "Now I'm fully awake."
"Then let's go." He ordered his team.
It was as they feared, and they found the body of a woman who was mutilated in a way that mimicked the murder of Elizabeth Short, also known as the Black Dahlia. Her body was nearly chopped in half, drained of blood and her intestines taken out and placed under her. Even he had the urge to throw up.
"What's that smell?" He asked.
"Gasoline." Routh replied. "The original killer used gasoline to cover up his fingerprints and any traces."
Their forensics had discovered large footprints in the direction of where the woman was found.
Agent Stensen had noted that this set of footprints went deeper into the mud, indicating they were carrying additional weight with them. They had also discovered a piece of nylon stuffed inside the victim's mouth.
"The Boston Strangler." Routh spoke after he saw the material. That means the killer will copy the famous murderer on the East Coast, where he strangled his victims using pantyhoses.
Having not found any other clues, they reconvened back in the station to utilize more of their resources and follow up on their leads.
"I found a name!" Agent Acres called through the phone and had spent the afternoon canvassing the various antique shops. They finally found a shop that sold its only stock, and found a name. They traced the accounts and found that this person has also purchased the comics of Jay Elroy.
Captain Andersen mobilized all available units to the address, and their field team followed the convoy of police vehicles. They had caught the killer by surprise. He had just captured his victim and was taking a shower to get rid of any evidence while his wife and son were away visiting relatives in Florida.
He had expected a lengthy investigation as more bodies were discovered, but this time…. This time they had stopped the killer before he went on a killing spree. All thanks to one cop with a love of history.
"So… we're recruiting him right?" Brendon Acres asked when they left Mid-Wilshire.
"Of course." Laura Stensen replied. "He's too invaluable to remain as a simple patrol cop. That's two serial killers he's managed to help catch."
He ignored his team, as he continued to type on his phone to the FBI Director of what needed to be done to recruit Jack Routh to the bureau.
Jack Routh
He watched the funeral service from a distance.
He recognized a few of the students who attended his class, and he wondered how he would tell them on Friday about their now dead classmate. Strange. He didn't feel guilty, he was satisfied that he had caught Betty's killer, and they had saved another innocent woman from a terrible fate. That was the important thing right now.
As Betty Price's casket was lowered to the ground, he turned around and headed to the car waiting for him.
"Thank you." He told his fiancé.
"You shouldn't thank me for this." Zoe replied and turned the ignition. They drove off and he remained silent while they continued towards Mid-Wilshire, still thinking of the Betty White and how eager she was on the first day of class. He wanted something to do to release this tension.
"Hey, Zoe?"
"Yeah?"
"How good of a shot are you? You were in the Marines right?" He asked.
"I can hold on my own." His fiancé replied with a small smile. "What do you have in mind?"
"Do you know any rifle ranges around here?" He asked. Jack Reacher always enjoyed shooting at rifles at gun ranges to unwind. "I want to get some practice."
"I didn't know you could shoot rifles." Zoe commented.
"It was a long time ago." He replied. "So do you know a place?"
Zoe unexpectedly smiled as she looked at him. "Then you're in luck, because I know a guy."
They drove for half an hour until they reached a rifle range. There was only one other parked vehicle in the parking lot, a pick-up truck.
"Zoe!" An older man called out from behind the counter.
"Martin!" Zoe greeted back and leaned across the display cases to hug the older man.
"Jack, this is Sergeant Martin of the United States Marine Corps, retired." Zoe introduced him. "John, this is my fiance, Jack Routh."
"Finally got yourself a proper man to tie you down?" John Martin asked Zoe.
"Good to meet you, sir." He shook hands with the older man.
"We're here to blow off some steam. Jack just closed a difficult case." Zoe explained.
"You a cop, son?" Martin asked.
"Yes sir, and Zoe's my Captain." He replied.
Martin helped them set up, and loaned them a Remington 700.
"What range do you want?" Martin asked as he brought out two cardboard targets.
"300." He replied. "I'll clip them."
He walked down the range, feeling the wind across his body. It took a few minutes and he clipped on the targets at the metal frames. He took a deep breath and started walking back, eager to test his skills.
"Ready?" Zoe asked. He nodded and aligned his body with the rifle and looked through the scope. He opened the bolt, pulled and loaded a single cartridge on the magazine and pushed the bolt back.
He looked back at the target through the scope, exhaled and gently squeezed the trigger.
"Six inches to the left." Martin, acting as spotter called out. He reloaded his weapon without looking away from the target and pushed back the bolt. After he dialed his scope to adjust, he exhaled once more and pressed the trigger.
"Hit!" Martin called out.
He kept repeating his ritual until he fired five shots. Three were on the black.
"Not bad." Martin said to him and handed him a pair of binoculars.
Zoe looked determined and she replaced him on the ground. He took a moment to admire the view of his fiancé in jeans and then arranged her cartridges beside her while picking up his brass.
Zoe fired, and her aim was off by two inches to the left, and three inches high. She adjusted her scope, reloaded her weapon, and fired.
"Hit!" Martin called out. He repeated the same word another three times. Zoe was dialed in.
He was amazed. He didn't realize she was that good.
"I surprised you huh?" Zoe stood up and dusted off her jeans.
"You're very good." He told her.
"She should be. She's the first woman that finished the marine sniper course." Martin stated. "You still got it, Zoe."
"I was more surprised at you, Jack." Zoe looked him up and down. You're already there. You just need to take your time with every shot."
"I thought you went with the military police officer route?" He asked.
"That was after I graduated from the marine sniper course. Some old fossils couldn't stand a woman passing a man's course, and they thought they lowered the standards for me to pass."
"Idiots." Martin snorted. "I was one of the instructors on the course. Zoe not only had to train as hard as the rest of the boys, but she had to deal with unwanted attention."
"So I left, and became a military police officer. I even arrested one of those fossils a few years later. So up for a few more rounds? Loser buys dinner?" Zoe challenged him.
"You're on."
"Of course loser has to treat Martin too. He's coming to dinner with us." He should have known by the confident gleam in Zoe's eyes that he already lost before he even fired his first shot.
They enjoyed a nice steak dinner at a diner a few miles down the road with Martin, with the old sergeant sharing stories about Zoe when he was still active. Seeing how relaxed and happy Zoe was, he decided to make this into a regular date for them.
Monday began in a strange fashion. Nolan and Angela were chased by bees on a routine traffic stop, and the dash cam footage was shown on TV courtesy of Sergeant Grey. On Tuesday morning, he got a call from Angela asking for help, her car won't start. He picked her up with his bike, and he could hear her screaming in delight at their ride to work.
Grey had assigned him to the front desk for his first shift since it was his turn, and had Nolan patrol with Angela.
It was fairly boring work, as he continued to answer visitors questions throughout the morning. He overheard Lucy trying to setup Bradford for a date, and if it worked out she could wear a short-sleeved uniform.
He had to admire her determination and her courage because if the date didn't work out, she had to do 50 pushups after every call they take until she finished probation. And he was pretty sure Tim Bradford would make sure her punishment would be carried out.
After his break, he was called in by the Captain and Grey.
"You called for me Captain?"
"Officer Routh, I need you to head straight to Shaw Memorial. Lopez just reported that they're assisting in a case with DHS, and she needs an extra pair of eyes to guard a valuable undercover DHS agent before their agents can get to the scene." Zoe stated. "Be careful with this one Jack."
"Yes captain." He gave Zoe a firm nod and quickly left the office.
He arrived at the hospital in his shop and immediately proceeded to the floor where Angela and Nolan were standing guard. He saw her former T.O. looking visibly relieved when she saw him.
"Good work getting here quickly Jack." Angela looked worried. "I had to call for backup once Russo told me how valuable our UC was."
"I should be the one to thank you. I had to answer the same question at least fifty times today at the front desk." He answered, earning a smile from his former T.O. Where do you want me?"
"Nolan's in the Mejia's room, so I want you to stand guard outside the door and watch the other end of the hallway. I'll watch this end."
"Got it." He slipped inside the room first to check in with Nolan. He took out the chart for the patient and scanned his schedule. Dr. Sawyer had signed off on it, and they just needed him to recover since he was in a stable condition.
Satisfied with the schedule, he went to stand on his assigned post and then maintained his surveillance. If DHS was involved, then the criminal organization that's after Mejia were heavy hitters.
A nurse in maroon scrubs came down from his end of the hallway, and he gave her a cursory glance and noted the ids she had and stepped aside. She smiled at him and entered the Mejia's room. He looked back when Nolan pushed the door open, helping the nurse push the patient out of the room.
"Where's he going?" He asked.
"He's getting transferred to the ICU." Nolan explained.
He watched the nurse who just smiled politely, waiting for him to step aside. Something didn't feel right.
"The chart didn't schedule one." He pointed out and put a hand on the hospital bed and pushed it back.
"It changed." The nurse sighed in irritation.
"Show me the paperwork then." He challenged her. The nurse suddenly tried to run, but he grabbed her by her ponytail and yanked her back. She fell to the floor and he immediately pulled out his weapon and pointed it at her.
"Police! Hands in the air! Now!" He ordered.
The nurse cursed as she raised her hand while she was kneeling on the floor.
"Nolan, put him back in the room and remain on alert. And call for backup." He told his fellow rookie.
He slowly approached the kneeling woman and pulled her hands together and secured her in cuffs. He then checked her for weapons as Lopez came running in from the other side of the hallway, with Dr. Sawyer right behind her.
"What happened?" Lopez asked, and he saw her put her hand on he weapon.
He pulled out a handgun from the woman's waist, along with a dagger.
"Fake Nurse." He reported. "She was trying to get him to ICU."
"She must have an accomplice." Lopez realized and he turned to Dr. Sawyer who looked shocked at what happened. "We need to lock down the hospital now, all exits. She's not working alone."
Dr. Sawyer nodded and ran to the duty station.
DHS agents finally arrived on the scene with Russo, and they joined the sweep. They found the nurses' accomplice hiding in the morgue.
John Nolan
He knew it was coming. Lopez is a friendly TO, until you screw up. Then she would turn into a raging volcano.
"Get back to the station Jack. We'll handle the rest." Lopez smiled at her former rookie. "Go on. Get!"
"Yes ma'am!" Jack gave polite nods to Jessica, the DHS agents and Grace before he left.
"Boot, with me." Lopez headed to an empty part of the hallway. At least she had the decency not to embarrass him in front of others.
"There's a reason why Routh got promoted ahead of his probation period. You think just because he's sleeping with the captain that he reached P2?" Lopez wheeled around and faced him. "What were you thinking?"
"I.. I didn't." He admitted.
"Are you distracted by your DHS girlfriend, your ex that's a doctor, or the pretty fake nurse that managed to fool you?" Lopez asked. "Which is it?"
"I have no excuse."
"Why didn't you check the schedule on the bed?" She asked.
"I… Mejia woke up… so I thought…" He took a deep breath, unable to continue speaking. He nearly screwed up.
"So you lost your focus." Lopez finished for him.
"It's a good thing I called Routh." Lopez started walking back to the main area. "I can't trust a cop who gets distracted easily. I washed out Jackson because he froze up whenever bullets started flying. Don't think you're safe because you're a few months away from finishing your probation."
The ride back to the station remained in awkward silence. He tried to engage her in conversation when she interrupted him again.
"Routh also so knew when to keep his mouth shut when I'm pissed." Lopez stated.
Message Received. He received a less harsh dressing down from Grey, though the Captain was sympathetic to him and just reminded him to always have the presence of mind and be aware of his surroundings.
He reached his newly bought house that he had been ripping the interior for the past two weeks and stepped inside. He heard a knock on the door and opened it to see Jessica with their dinner.
"How bad was it?" She asked.
"What?"
"Lopez. She looked like she was barely keeping it in when you two went for a… talk." Jessica replied.
Oh, it was that obvious? Lopez did look like a rumbling volcano when mad.
"Tell me the truth, how badly did I screw up?" He asked.
"Not too bad, Mejia was able to give us the passwords, and we retrieved $22 million dollars from the arms dealer." Jessica reported. "Good thing you had a reliable backup."
"Well yeah, he left me in the dust by this point." He admitted.
"John you don't have to always compare yourself to him." Jessica hugged him from behind. "You have your own strengths. Don't be someone you're not."
"Like a Navy Seal?" He knew he regretted saying it the moment the words left his mouth.
"What's that supposed to mean?" The warm body pressed to his back suddenly vanished.
"Look, I'm sorry. It's my own insecurities messing me up." He tried to reach for Jessica but she was already picking up her things.
"You better fix that then." She replied and then left the house.
Great. He needed something to vent out on. Good thing he has a whole house to demolish.
He picked up the hammer and started swinging.
Jack Routh
He was halfway through his lecture about the Abrahamic religions first to let his class understand the context behind the formation of Franks from the old Roman provinces in Gaul when his door opened once more. Another student was requesting to sit in. He nodded absently, his train of thought still on his lecture.
Technically there were no rules against other students sitting in, and it was at the sole discretion of the professor to allow them inside his classroom or not. Of course he allowed it, but now there were barely any seats left.
Next time he would lock the door when he started his lecture. The next person to enter he would ask to leave. As expected the door opened again.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to sit in. You're already too late."
"But Professor, I just want to sit in."
He looked at the door and his eyes widened with surprise when he saw his former T.O., dressed in her patrol uniform standing by the door. His students were looking confused at the presence of a cop inside the classroom.
"It's alright, everyone, this is Officer Lopez, a friend of mine. Have a seat Officer Lopez, and please lock the door behind you."
"Yes Professor." Lopez winked at him and locked the door. His lecture finished, he started on the second part, where he used a more practical approach.
He allowed them to ask questions about his lecture, and used their questions to guide them to learn the answer together. It was more of a group exercise, as the students themselves came to answer their own questions in the end as he provided background context.
Once the round of questions was done, he decided to have some fun and decided to give the class a view of the life of high society. This technically wasn't part of the curriculum, but he was pretty sure they will enjoy it since majority of his class and students that sat in were women.
"Ms. Penny, can you step here in front of the class please? And can I borrow those two fans?" He asked the class. "We just have enough time for me to show you the secret language of fans in high society. This will help you communicate in a Georgian court if you do find yourselves in one."
Penny stood up, with the two fans with in her hand. He took one of the fans from her and instructed her to copy his movements.
"Why learn the secret language of fans?" He walked around the class. "It's because you don't need to nod or shake your head, that's old hat."
"To say yes, you tap your folded fan on your right cheek." He placed the fan on his cheek while smiling, which was copied by Penny who remained standing at the front of the class. "And to say no, it's your left. Simple right?" He repeated the movement, this time frowning as he tapped his left cheek. Giggles erupted from the class.
"Ms. Penny, do you like this lesson so far? You can't speak." He called out to his assistant.
Penny put her fan on her right cheek and smiled at him.
There was a round of laughter in class as they imitated what he just did, and started using the simple move with each other.
"Now the fan is a great way to break the ice at a party. To signal I wish to speak to you…" He stood a dozen paces away from Penny, spread the fan in front of him and tapped the very top of the fan with his finger.
"This is how you signal you're available for conversation, come and talk to me." He spread the fan again, this time holding it with his left hand, while he looked at Penny. "Notice I'm holding the fan in my left hand."
"And now this is the more flirty option, if you want to get to know somebody. This is the signal of hey I find you hot, or I desire your acquaintance." He spread the fan and covered his face, only his eyes were visible to Penny.
The class laughed once more.
"We're getting more intense now. This is how you say I love you." He folded the fan and caressed his right cheek with it in a slow movement all the way to his chin. He waited as Penny repeated the movement.
"Now, if you want more privacy this is the way to say follow me." He spread the fan with his right hand and walked away, using the fan to slightly beckon Penny to follow him which his student did.
"If you want to keep things platonic, and keep him in the friend zone, you drop the fan." He used the spread fan and lowered it from his face and lowered all the way until it was just held in his side.
"If you have a persistent and unwanted suitor, this is how to reject them gently." He spread the fan, copied by Penny and slowly fanned his chest. "It's a slow, bored waft."
"This is a slightly harsher rejection and that you don't want to see them, you do this." He tapped his left ear with his fan. "That's get out of my face."
"If that doesn't work, then this is how to say to them I hate you." He made a ring with his left finger using his index finger and thumb and rand the folded fan through it. "That's the worst thing you can say to someone."
"Now how to say good bye?" He asked the class. "Simple, it involves wiggling your pinky."
He spread his fan and stuck his pinky finger out and wiggled it slightly.
"Let's see a couple of paintings, and see what the women are saying with their fans."
He showed a sequence of slides of paintings, showing women with their fans in various poses. The class, with their new understanding, started to answer eagerly. The bell rang and he dismissed them for the day.
"Have a good weekend." He called out as he handed back the fans and turned to Penny.
"Thank you for the help."
"Anytime professor! That was fun!" Penny smiled and left the room, until only Angela remained.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"I was curious to see your classes so I finished my shift a little early to visit you." Angela answered. "That was amazing by the way. I wish I could sit in this class. Your students were really paying attention."
"Thanks."
"Is the food here any good?" She asked him as they left the classroom.
"No, take me somewhere decent please." He replied.
Angela finally shared the reason she visited, aside from her curiosity about his new side gig. She needed advice since Wesley appeared reluctant to introduce her to his family and needed a man's perspective.
"So does he not want me to meet his mother?" She asked him over fries and burgers, his treat of course.
"No, he said yes to you going to his family function right? That slight reluctance from him is probably because for guys, meeting their mom means it's going to the next step. It's a reasonable reaction."
"You mean…" Angela's eyes widened at his implication.
"Yes, so don't overthink this Angela." He suggested. "Relax at this party and get to know his mom. This is a big step for guys. It's a commitment for them that this will be a long term relationship."
"But we never discussed marriage before."
"That will probably start to happen after you meet his family." He answered. He was glad he was able to ease the worries of his former T.O. and friend. They soon drifted to other topics, and Angela resumed patrol, after she dropped him off at the college for his afternoon class.
Saturday morning, after a passionate night with Zoe, he left to head to training range in Lakeshore. Hondo had sent word if he's interested in a unique poker game. With nothing else to do that morning, he accepted the invitation. He arrived at the address and realized it was a LAPD training facility used by metro.
"Glad you could come." Hondo was waiting for him with a few members of his squad. "We were short one man. How are you with rifles?"
"I can handle them fine although I thought we're playing poker, Sergeant?"
"We are, but it's not your usual poker." Hondo handed him a pair of binoculars. "Over there about 300 yards out are a set of deck cards. We each get five shots, best hand wins. You up for it Routh?"
"Hell yes Sergeant."
"Do you have experience with these before?" Jim Street handed him a Remington 700 PSS. He was part of Hondo's squad asked him. He got well with Street when he first him, with the officer giving him tips during the head to head exercise.
"I have shot a few rounds with this before." He smiled at the memory of Zoe kicking his ass.
"Good, we can head straight to the game then. $20 for a buy in for each round." Street led him to the rest of the squad.
He positioned himself beside Street and Chris, never call me Christina, Alonso. The only female member of the squad got called Christina by the rest of her squad for losing to him on their head-to-head exercise.
"Warm up! Shoot the Joker!" Hondo was their spotter today, and they started to adjust their weapons and shooting positions as they lay on the ground. They would be shooting in order, from Street, to him, then Chris and two other guys he had never met yet, named David and Victor.
"Hit! Street is coming in hot! Clipped the bottom edge." Hondo announced. Apparently he was also doing commentary as well.
He looked for his target, and searched the deck for the joker. He aimed for the joker and pressed the trigger.
"Hit!" Hondo called out. "Just clipped the top. Routh has some game!"
He waited patiently for his turn and aimed for an Ace of Spades.
"Hit! Two of hearts for Routh!" There goes his strategy. He needed to calm down.
Despite losing $60 dollars after losing for a three rounds, he enjoyed the experience and asked Hondo when their next poker game was going to be held. He intended to bring Zoe so that they could win back the money he lost. He was sure Zoe would enjoy the time and practice her marksmanship skills.
Daniel Harrelson Jr. "Hondo"
He watched as Routh left the lot on his flashy bike and smiled. Routh didn't even realize how difficult the exercise had been. There was a reason only five of his squad participated in the exercise and he was able to keep playing with them for three rounds.
"You sure he's not special ops?" Jim Street asked.
"I checked his records. He is what he says he is." Hondo replied.
"So what's your plan? Grooming a recruit?"
"Something like that. I intend to show him the different exercises we do as an observer." He wondered if Routh would enjoy rappelling down helicopters.
"So when he finally arrives in metro, he already has the qualifications and training for D platoon?" Street smirked. "That's sneaky."
"That's how I operate." He said proudly. He wanted nothing but the best members in his squad.