A freshly promoted vice detective, Ero Moore investigates a case of suspected drug dealings at a coastal clubhouse along with a old-timer detective, Lawrence West and discovers a dangerous drug trafficking operation hidden within it's club walls.
The night was cold. Nothing but the flickering road lamps can be heard, along with the gentle ocean waters brushing against the rocks below the harbour. Countless fright containers stretched across the dock, almost looking like a maze as the silence is soon broken by the sound of a passing SUV. It slowed down near the harbour's entrance for a split second before making a turn, inviting the Surburban in as it came to a easy halt in the parking bay. There, Another car awaits in front of them, idling with its headlights glaring brightly with a fox standing beside the driver side door of the car, carrying a duffle bag and cladding a black and white Varsity jacket. The doors of the Black suburban swing open, allowing Leopards in suits to exit the vehicle. One, donning a grey suit is seen being escorted out by the driver, carrying a bag seemed to be filled with money. He adjusts his tie before turning to look at the man.
"Mr Fox, I believe you have the possession of an item I want?" The man in grey asked, directed towards the fox. Almost as if it wasn't a question but more of a demand. The fox paused before answering back with reaffirmation. "Yes I do. But I want to see the money first." The Grey Leopard glanced down at his feet for a brief moment, wagging his tail with annoyance. With a scoff and a slight grin before looking up in irritation. "You're in no position to demand anything, Foxah. Besides, you failed to fulfill half of our previous orders. So, do you have it or not" Two Leopards standing beside him subtly shifts their coats to their sides, flashing their guns as the light illuminates and reflects off the gunmetal surfaces. Indicating a potential threat towards the fox
"Woah, okay. let's relax alright? yes we got them." Foxah exclaims. He had a sick look on his face, as if he just saw a ghost. After catching a glimpse of their guns, the Fox unslings the duffle bag anxiously over his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor, kneeing down to open the bag but not before one of henchmen positions his hand over his gun menacingly holstered in his shoulder. The fox stops and looks at the henchman "Relax" he said in a nervous but calm tone before reaching for the bag's zipper.
_ _ _ _ _
Unbeknownst to the group. Behind several containers positioned closely on the other side of the two cars were men dressed in black uniforms and vests bearing the inscription "S.W.A.T" They crouched behind cover, bracing against the walls of the metal containers in a combative stance. Their firearms in a poised and raised position as the leader of the S.W.A.T team answers to his radio "We're in position."
"Hold on, wait on my signal." The voice of a woman came on the radio. An officer in uniform, donning a green shirt and a bullet proof vest worn over her top, With the subtle glint of her badge clipped onto her waist, conveyed the message. A red and yellow shark leaned against a Container across from the first team. More S.W.A.T members followed up behind her. Unlike the rest, she didn't look like just any regular cop. As if from a higher branch of the Miami PD. "Wait for them to show the goods. Don't spook em." She spoke, quietly through the radio in one hand as she firmly grasped onto the back of her firearm. With a swift motion, she unholsters it, cradling the weapon close to her stomach in a ready position.
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